Bad Moon Rising
by stubzs87
Summary: Things are starting to look up for Dean Ambrose; he seems to be closing in on the WWE Title, Seth Rollins has returned from injury, and he might just in fact return his feelings. Then of course he had to end up getting bitten by some ravenous, unidentifiable creature. Halloween Ambrollins fic. Rated M for language, gore, and adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

Just a Disclaimer: I don't own Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, or any other WWE Characters, just the plot. This is purely for entertainment purposes. Please enjoy and have happy Halloween if you celebrate it!

* * *

 _Don't go 'round tonight_

 _Or it's bound to take your life_

 _There's a bad moon on the rise_

The lyrics resounded blaringly through Dean's head, a disturbingly appropriate soundtrack for the sudden distress he found himself in.

 _'Maybe…if I'd heard that for what it really was, a warning…'_ he thought humorlessly through the blanket of fear and pain covering his system more and more the longer he remained within the jaws of whatever the hell was whipping him around like he was a ragdoll, not a 225 pound man.

Thankfully it was gripping the leg of his jeans and not his flesh.

All at once the snarling thing tossed him through the air and he hit a nearby dumpster, the harsh impact taking the wind out of his lungs and crushing his ribs. He landed on his stomach with a painful thud and through the heat pinpricking the corner of his eyes he got the first clear look of his attacker as it stalked towards his prone body.

That's when Dean was dead certain that if he didn't scratch and claw tooth and nail for his life then it would be taken from him.

 **. :Ten Minutes Earlier: .**

"I thought you quit?"

Dean's gaze traveled up from the spot he'd been intently staring at on the grungy pavement of the alley behind the dive bar he was currently leaning against to the form of the man he rarely got to see in person in nearly twelve months.

The end of his cigarette burned bright in the darkness as he pulled another drag from it and he took the smoke from between his lips.

"I thought so too," he murmured, releasing curls of smoke into the air.

And he had. For the nearly five years since being signed to WWE he had been smoke free. Then Seth injured his knee, leaving for seven months to recover, and shortly after that Bryan (who was barely older than him and Seth) was forced to retire due to his neck.

There were still plenty of friendly faces and talented competitors left in the locker room, but with those two gone there seemed to be a large void in the back and in the ring.

Many nights after both events Dean would wake up in his hotel room, clinging to dreams of a time when the younger man bunked with him when they roomed with Roman when they first broke into the main roster. He'd find himself in his hotel room all but alone and his mind helplessly and horrifically entertaining the thought of Seth's injury forcing him into early retirement as well.

It was more than a little depressing, and as much as he tried to fight off old habits, the craving to light up and let good ol' nicotine calm his nerves became too much. At least he wasn't smoking all that much, maybe a few times a week. Dean saw that as a small victory.

Seth seemed to understand what he was thinking just now. He had a weird, unfathomable way of knowing him better than anyone else, inside and outside the ring.

Leaving the doorframe of the bar and the loud music behind him, Seth came to stand next to Dean, causing the other man to tense unperceptively.

"It's been awhile…since we've hung out like this outside the ring."

Dean took in a shaky breath; thankful that his face was mostly shaded in darkness so that Seth couldn't see him, read him, as another drag from the stuffed cancer stick called out to him.

He knew very well how long it had been since they last enjoyed each other's company that didn't include a wrestling match or exchanging words backstage.

After Seth's scripted betrayal of The Shield, he had been counting up the time since. Counting up every day, every hour, sometimes down to the fucking minute since the last time he grabbed a beer in public with Seth, or warred over whether the three of them listened to SKA or country music while driving in the rental car to the next city, or that dorky, yet infectious laughter when he said or did something funny. At least 709 days since he last shared a room or bed with Seth or woke up with the bronzed man having snuck himself into the embrace of his arms during the night.

Back then it was easy to imagine that Seth felt the same sparks he did whenever they touched, no matter how lightly or for how long. It was easy to imagine that Seth wouldn't flat out reject him if he confessed he feelings. Feelings he'd been bottling for years.

But a confession never came, and storylines changed and changed again, and now Seth was all but out of his grasp and the only time the spark seemed to charge the both of them was when they locked up in the ring.

Perhaps the only spark they had left was in their wrestling chemistry.

Dean schooled his voice so that it didn't crack, "Yeah, it has." He then sucked in nicotine until his lungs burned for air. Exhaling with a teasing chuckle to ease his nervousness, he added, "Ya know we'd be breaking kayfabe if any fans happened to catch us back here together."

"And I couldn't care less," there was a slight laugh to match his own, but for the most part Seth's tone was completely serious.

Something inside Dean stuttered then sputtered to life like an old car engine that had sat still too long, but ran strong once it got started.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, attempting keep up the cocky façade. Instead it came out as a croak, full of hesitancy.

Seth playfully bumped his shoulder with his own (and fuck if he didn't feel that unspeakable spark again), his voice both confident and breathy when said an answering "Yeah," his deep doe eyes sparkling under the street lamp and his lips curving up, making him all the more enticing.

And Seth was so close. When did he get so close?

Dean found himself drawn in like a moth to a flame and he could hardly care if his wings got burned off. It would be worthy sacrifice if he could relieve his shoulders of the dead weight of this unfulfilled confession, even if it is unrequited, before he never got the chance to again.

Flicking his half smoked cigarette away Dean turned more towards Seth just as Bad Moon Rising came on the jukebox inside the bar. For a moment he idly wished for a better song (not that he didn't like that song), one more fitting for the way Seth tipped his head up as he loomed slightly down over the other man.

Just a few hair's breadths more and their lips would press together.

But despite all the encouraging signals on the receiver, Dean wanted to be sure.

"Can borrow your ear for a minute? I've got something I wanna get off my chest."

"Shoot."

Dean took a deep breath and managed to open his mouth before something clamped tightly around his pant leg and with little to no effort he was abruptly dragged to the ground and thrashed around like an oversized chew toy.

The song and the sound of blood rushing through his head were suddenly too loud, nearly drowning out Seth's shouts and curses. He barely registered the heavy growling until he was thrown back into the unforgiving metal of the dumpster, his ribs snapping. Only then did he realize his situation.

An animal, one the likes of which he'd never seen before approached him on stout paws that were surely bigger than Big Show's hands.

It resembled a canine, but only if there existed some hybrid species that grew to be as big as a considerably sized bear. All the more he could see in the sparse lighting and the time granted to him before the beast attacked again were glowing blue eyes and a huge gaping maw filled with razor sharp fangs.

In a blur of great agility Seth had insinuated himself between Dean and their attacker. And all it took was a flick of the thing's massive head and Seth went flying backwards.

"Seth!" his ribs burned in protest as he cried out the other's name.

Ignoring smaller prey in favor of something bigger and much closer, the thing turned its attention back on Dean.

Fighting through the pain burning his nerve endings to a crisp, Dean balled his hand into a fist and as the beast entered striking range, aimed for its eyes and let loose a punch.

The snag of teeth on the sleeve of his leather jacket and the feeling of being dragged quickly over pavement told him that his attacker was much quicker than him in his injured state. One moment his stomach was experiencing the worse case of road rash, the next he was swiftly gliding over grass.

Soon Seth's desperate cries became nothing but echoes in the distance.

He tried to free himself from his jacket; a cry bubbling up from his throat as he worked to pull his arm – the one the beast had a hold of – free of the leather sleeve.

The thing, seeming to sense his intentions with freakish perception, released his arm, and placed a heavy paw upon his chest. It wasted no time in sinking its fangs into the muscle of his shoulder.

A gravelly shriek erupted into the night air, racking his ribs with agony.

Blood spurted from his shoulder and Dean was sure the squishy, grinding sound he heard next to his ear was the thing's teeth scraping down to the bone as it gnawed on his flesh and muscle.

It was now or never.

Thankful that he never cut his nails too short, he jammed the thumb of his free hand deep into one large glowing eye while his other hand landed blow after blow on the long snout.

The thing hissed but refused to relinquish its grip on him.

"Fucker!" Dean growled, pushing with all his might so that his fifth digit met the back of the creature's eye socket.

But he didn't stop there. He continued to push with all the strength in his hand in hopes of breaching the skull. The bone was too thick however, so he settled on biting into whatever he could reach, tearing away and spitting out a bloody chunk.

Finally its jaws let him go, but the heavy weight on his body remained, long sharp claws digging into his already abused chest. He breathed another harsh cry, his hands retreating in their attack to try and pry the paw away instead.

No matter how much his muscles strained, Dean just wasn't strong enough to make the thing budge an inch.

Undeterred by the damage it sustained by his hands, the thing seemed to only become angrier, almost vindictive, as it pinpointed the breaks in his ribs and paid special attention in cracking them further.

Once it was satisfied in its torture, it shifted its weight and clamped onto his shredded shoulder again.

Reduced to a battered, useless, and sobbing heap on the ground, Dean knew he could do nothing but endure the painful remainder of his life. He was just a dead man waiting to expire.

 _'Dean Ambrose…eaten by a unidentified wild animal.'_

Well at least his epitaph wouldn't be boring.

Vaguely through his suffering Dean thought he heard a familiar warrior cry followed by a series of sickening bone crunching thwacks. The beast let out a roar; one louder than a tiger or a bear, and its weight disappeared completely.

That recognizable, aggressive shout sounded again before something heavy seemed to lope away with an unsteady gait.

"Dean!"

Suddenly Seth's breathless face took up the entirety of his view, hands pulling at his clothes and moving carefully over his wounds. By this point Dean felt didn't feel much of anything, except the sensation of being touched, but his pain receptors registered nothing. Perhaps they'd been burned out.

Those hands then cupped his face.

"Dean! **Dean!** Fuck, **_say_** **_something!_** "

Dean blinked a few times and tried to bring his brain back up to speed. "I-I…a-am I …d-dead?"

"Fuck Deano…" Though Seth's expression remained anguished, his voice softened with relief, "Thank god."

The hands were traveling over him again, prodding his ribs with more scrutiny. They ached a bit with the added pressure, but the previous throbbing torment had left him.

Then slowly, methodically the man above him touched the wounds of his shoulder, feeling the muscle and bone.

"Does it hurt?" Seth asked in nearly a whisper.

Pinching his brows together, Dean concentrated on Seth's probing fingers. In the end he shook his head, inwardly surprised considering his broken ribs and mangled shoulder.

"J-Just aches."

Once again Seth's hands retraced their path on his battered body. Dean wanted to say that having his hands on him were a nice distraction, but considering the situation he decided against it making that known.

Seth slowly pulled his hands back. He seemed lost.

"What is it?"

"I-Impossible…" Seth murmured, meeting his eyes, "your ribs…t-they should be crushed."

"Thought so too," he repeated his earlier words, ones he said when they were still safely leaning against the brick wall of the dive joint.

"A-And your shoulder…the wound's already…closed. It's…" Seth checked the lacerations for a third time, "how can it already be healing?"

His brows pinched further. "Shit, you serious?"

"Yeah, man."

Something rustled in the woods, causing them both to shift their attention. Not too far away they heard a low, haunting howl and Dean sat up in reflex, hardly phased by his injuries.

The thing was still close, too close for comfort. Maybe it was mounting a second attack.

Seth whispered near his ear, "Think you can get outta here on your own or do I need to carry ya?"

"Sure as hell gonna try," Dean returned lowly.

Seth offered him a hand and he rose stiffly to his feet, silencing the groans that threatened to fly from his lips. Seth picked up what appeared to be a heavy metal pipe and with his other arm around Dean's waist to help brace him upright, they quickly yet cautiously got moved towards the relative safety of a more populated area.

"W-What was that thing?"

"I dunno…maybe a bear…" Seth sounded jittery and every few moments he was looking over his shoulder.

Dean never saw the younger man so afraid that it bordered on paranoia. But then again he couldn't much blame him.

"Bears don't howl," he said as he himself took a backwards glance as they left the area of the park, steering towards the lighted streets of Baltimore.

The further they ambled on, the steadier Dean's stride became. It didn't take long for him to no longer require assistance though he didn't push the other away, instead soaking up the warmth of Seth's body so close to his after so long.

"P-Probably a big dog…"

"That was no fucking dog either."

Seth stayed under the weight of Dean's arm but released his waist to bring out his cell phone. He began thumbing something in.

"What're you doing?"

"Calling an ambulance. That thing could have had rabies."

The idea of being torn away from wrestling now that he felt like he was so close to a WWE World Title reign that he could taste it, and even more important, separation from Seth again caused Dean's heart and stomach to seize. He needed this opportunity and he needed Seth even more.

"No! Wait!" he spoke with alarm, snatching away the phone before the call could be connected.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Seth cried incredulously as he tried to recover his phone.

Holding the device from Seth's reach, blue eyes searched brown with a silent urgency. Seth seemed to realize his train of thought and shook his head.

"No, no, no, no, no, Dean. Don't be stupid. You'll get be champ another day, save your health first, dammit."

"Look at me," Dean shouted nervously and Seth paused in his objections, allowing him to continue, "I'm fine. Fuckin' sore but I'm fine. Please…just…just don't take this away from me. If it comes to it, I'll check myself into the hospital, okay? Let me be the one to decide. Just take me back to the hotel. I'll be fine."

He knew he was rambling, but he needed to make Seth understand and he seemed to be actually listening, considering.

"Maybe you are as crazy as your moniker…" Seth's voice held little heat or accusation despite his words.

"More like desperate," he countered, "Please…let me be the one to handle this."

Seth looked to the side and released a shaky breath. When he looked back at Dean his lower lip trembled and his eyes turned misty.

"I…I-I thought you w-were I was gonna lose you," Dean heard the sniffle in the other's voice. Seth wiped his nose on the back of his hand then wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, bringing him in close. "I t-thought you w-were gonna f-fucking _die_."

Quietly Dean rested his chin on Seth's shoulder and closed his eyes, returning the embrace with equal intensity and the desire to express the same comfort to the other man that Seth's warmth and scent brought him.

"Shhh…It's okay, Seth. I'm fine," he whispered, rubbing Seth's back soothingly as he felt the smaller body shiver with a small sob, "I'm fine. We're going to be okay."

Dean didn't know how long they stood there clinging to each other like that but he didn't care, nor did he care about the people walking by them on the sidewalk, possibly spying on them and taking secret photos. He didn't care and neither did Seth.

Finally they parted and tracked down Seth's rental and while Seth drove Dean changed out of his torn and bloody clothes into fresh ones from his suitcase they had nabbed from Dean and Roman's rental. Silently, almost telepathically, they agreed to tell no one about anything unless it became a necessity.

Dean felt fine until after they checked into the room at the hotel they managed to book together. He started to feel weak and a bit feverish, but not wanting to worry his friend and blood brother, he said nothing. Once his body hit the bed a deep ache settled into his bones and muscles making him feel incredibly heavy.

Distantly he felt his feet being shifted under the power of another, first his laces were carefully untied and loosened, then his boots were slipped off.

He didn't fight it, nor did he fight as the blankets were pulled from beneath him so they could cover him instead, in fact he helped by lifting his body so he didn't hold the sheets hostage. After he was enveloped by the crisp softness of the comforter he felt a warm body slip underneath with him and arms hold him securely, sparks mildly tickling his flesh wherever their skin made contact.

Dean quickly succumbed to a surprisingly restful sleep.

* * *

Besides zombies, werewolves have come to be my favorite monster archetype, and this plot bunny got stuck in my head while visiting my friend in Sweden (Dean just screams scruffy werewolf to me). I started writing the foundation of this fic there, but this fic evolved into an entirely different animal by the time I started typing it. It's nearly finished, so I'll probably update quickly depending on feedback, otherwise I'll try to update once a week.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Scent and a sound. I'm lost and I'm found_**  
 ** _And I'm hungry like the wolf._**

 **-Duran Duran, "Hungry like the Wolf."**

 **This chapter was beta'd so I hope it came out better. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey man, are you sure you're okay in there?" Seth asked for about the twentieth time, pacing outside the closet Dean picked to change in for SmackDown.

No answer.

He sighed, pausing to check around for any eavesdropping roster members or staff then went back to wearing a path into the floor.

It had been that way since that Monday night after RAW a week ago, after the attack and ever since Dean had been changing in whatever room he could get that was away from Roman and other prying eyes of the locker room while Seth guarded the door. Dean was afraid of someone seeing his wounds and ratting him out to the doctor or worse case, their boss.

And it wasn't just the wounds that worried Seth.

Though Dean swore up and down that he was perfectly fine those first couple of days and he performed well on the mic and in the ring, behind the scenes Dean was a bit of a wreck.

Sometimes Seth would find him dead to the world on one of the production boxes mere minutes before he was supposed to be at Gorilla position or ready to cut a promo and he'd have to shake him awake.

And a few days after that Dean began snapping Roman, Jimmy or Jey, or one of the staff, looking like he was ready to take their heads off. It really wasn't like him at all to have such high aggressive tendencies when he wasn't in character.

' _Maybe he's just stressed out because of the attack.'_

"Dean, c'mon…talk to me."

Nothing.

Seth sighed. He had enough of Dean's behavior and pushed the door open.

"Dude…" he breathed as the door slammed shut behind him.

"I think this warrants more than just a "dude" as a response…" said Dean in aggravation.

Mesmerized and a little freaked out by the sight before him, Seth wandered closer with wide eyes and barely contained curiosity, reaching out with a trembling hand towards Dean's bare torso.

Dean's wounds had closed and healed completely leaving behind only ugly scars, but that wasn't the most concerning thing. Foreign looking course white hairs were sprouting from the raised crisscrossed patches of skin and not in localized areas, but directly from the scars.

Dean turned his face away from his gaze, seemingly disgusted with himself and punched the wall.

"What's happening?" Seth asked, his voice coming out timidly. He flinched as the other threw his fist into the concrete again.

"I dunno…" for a moment Dean sounded vulnerable before his ire returned, "I don't even mind having a hairy chest, but this?! A hairy shoulder? I can't fuckin' wrestle like this. I mean I could…but everyone's gonna be like "What the hell's up with him? Who the fuck has a hairy shoulder?" " By the end of his speech his voice had risen to the point of quietly yelling.

Seth shook his head slowly, his bloodstream bubbling with worry and concern. "You should go visit the doc."

Dean faced him again, panic swimming in his eyes. "N-Now that's a little extreme," he chuckled, but the way he pulled him into his arms, his body shaking, belied his nerves, "I don't need to do that. I'm in no pain…and…and I can just shave or throw on one of my t-shirts from merch, ya know, one that still has the sleeves."

"Dean…"

"It'll be fine," his voice had gentled.

"We don't know what that…animal was carrying. What if it's-"

A hand came up, sweeping tenderly through the loose strands of his hair then a nose and a scruffy cheek nuzzled a sensitive spot on his neck. The intimacy of the act threw Seth off and his usually rational mind stuttered to a stop.

"Please," Dean murmured, his breath tickling Seth's skin, "This is my life. Wrestling is my life. You _know_ I've been chasing this belt, like you…all my life. I need wrestling…I need…I-I need…"

Seth's heart thundered out of rhythm in his chest and he was sure Dean could feel it too. "W-What do you need?" he took a chance in asking.

"I need…" Dean repeated in a low, throaty rumble.

The hot exhale of air against his neck caused Seth's pulse to spike even higher.

Was he going to?

Dean's body shuttered against his and he slowly pulled back, eyes almost guarded. "I need this chance, I may never get another one again…"

Disappointment flooded Seth's body but he forced a nod of understanding.

' _Of course he meant the championship.'_

"Alright…" he agreed with a sigh.

Seth was pulled back against Dean's body and the taller man all but buried his face into his neck and hair, strong, toned arms wrapping him up as Dean hummed a soft sound of gratitude near his ear.

He really couldn't deny Dean anything when he was so close and affectionate like this. Seth knew that now. It was a sweet weakness of his.

Dean finally pulled back and smiled at him, his twinkling eyes and irresistible dimples blasting him at full power.

"Thank you."

Seth swallowed, could feel the movement of his adam's apple as it bobbed up and down against the skin of his throat. He just nodded dumbly.

Scratch his earlier thinking. Everything about Dean weakened him.

As the days carried on into weeks Seth kept Dean as close to him as possible. They rode to shows together, stopped and ate together, and shared hotel rooms even though friends and the higher ups chastised them. Still no one really did anything about it. They were a couple of the top guys bringing in the most cash flow. It was easy to get away with something so small.

And while Dean continued to change separate from the roster with Seth playing watchman and generally avoid everyone else, everything seemed to normalize a bit.

Dean was calmer when it was just the two of them and his scars had faded away almost completely.

It was enjoyable beyond belief to be able to spend time with his brother in arms, to have him around all the time, and this time there was no one else to worry about. Of course Roman never really cared how close he got to Dean, but it was still nice not to have a third wheel hanging around all the time.

Yet Seth felt he couldn't be completely open with Dean. There was still something between them, holding him back from acting on his true feelings.

He wasn't sure where Dean's feelings were and he didn't want to risk ruining everything just after returning from such long recovery, after almost losing Dean to…what ever it was that mauled him.

That was another thing that bothered him, kept him up at night when Dean slept soundly next to him.

' _What was that thing?'_

Seth couldn't deny the immediate changes that had occurred in Dean after being bitten, changes both physical and emotional. And they were rapidly continuing.

Dean's facial and chest hair were growing in – along with the strange fur-like hairs that still came in where he had been injured – almost as fast as he could rid himself of it. His attitude problem around others was on a further downward spiral and he ate ravenously with even less manners than normal.

Somehow he wasn't gaining a pound after such pig-outs.

If Seth weren't sure he was simply imagining it, he would swear that Dean was faster, stronger in the ring. On more than one occasion he was on the other end of strikes and clotheslines that was taking him out of his boots without the benefit of him helping to sell the move.

Dean was changing, practically evolving, and doing so very fast. It wasn't right.

Just this morning Seth had woken up to find that Dean now had streaks of white staining his copper-blond hair.

"That bite…it's done something to you," he said, sleep making his voice rough.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked sitting up in bed suddenly.

"You've been changing since that bite…"

"Oh so that makes me a werewolf or something?" it was said in humor.

Seth didn't laugh.

"You were bitten by some creature on a night of the full fucking moon. Now you're hairy, or hairier than normal, and your hair color is changing. Something's very wrong."

Dean gave him a look then chuckled in a flippant manner. Seth didn't miss the hint of trepidation in that laugh.

"So I'm getting a few gray hairs, I'm _thirty_. And all the fans think I'm the crazy one…"

Seth sat up as well. "Those are not a few gray hairs, Dean," He was fully awake now and completely serious, "I know it sounds like some fantasy. It does to me too…but just think about it for a second."

"I just did…"

"No really _think_ about it."

"I think I need a few drinks," Dean jumped out from under the covers and threw on some jeans, "And you need some sleep. I think you've been working yourself up too hard."

Seth glared at the older man as he finished dressing and headed for the door with his things. Worry took over then.

"Where are you going?"

He heard a sigh and then, "Relax, Princess. I'm just gonna hit the gym."

Once he heard the door shut he let out a curse and hurried to get ready so he could make pursuit. Dean rarely went anywhere without him now, so his mind was sending him warning alarms.

By the time he made it into the corridor the other man was long gone.

"Shit…"

Seth checked every gym in close proximity to their hotel building before walking into the fourth and in on a particularly heated argument between Dean and Roman. They were others from the roster there as well, such as Cesaro, the Usos, Truth, and even Becky and Charlotte, surrounding the two of them and trying to keep them from escalating things.

Cursing again Seth jogged over.

"What the hell's happened to you, man? You've become an asshole to everyone now," Roman looked and sounded like he was restraining himself from getting too loud or hauling off and punching Dean.

Dean on the other hand, was practically frothing at the mouth to get at their brother. Sure he and Roman got into squabbles in the past, but nothing like this.

"Now you're dyin' your hair? This ain't like you, man."

"Maybe you never fucking knew me," Dean spat, shoving off Cesaro's arm with surprising ease.

"Hey! _Hey!_ Stop this shit!" Seth hissed as he came to a stop in the middle of the fray, one palm pressed on each bigger man's chest.

Roman glanced from him to Dean, an angry and hurt look flashing across his eyes.

"Seems like you've been getting to know Seth here pretty well," he then looked directly at Seth, "maybe you need to spend your time with someone that isn't a complete dick."

Before any of them could act a fist shot out and Roman was knocked flat out on his back, blood instantly streaming from his nose.

"Fuck you," Dean literally roared.

He stood over Roman's large frame, bloodied fist clenching and unclenching as a murderous intensity roiled off him in waves.

Seth was moved to silence, unnerved by Dean's vicious display.

Even Roman looked shocked.

"Hey, all of you! Out of the gym!"

The voice of the gym manager was hardly audible over anxious chattering of their co-workers or the white noise buzzing around in Seth's head. He snapped out of it and with some difficulty hauled Dean out of the establishment by his arm.

Once they pushed through the doors Dean ripped away from his grip and took off with furiously long-legged strides. Seth could only just keep up.

"Dean!" he called, "Dammit stop."

"Need a breather," Dean growled without slowing down or so much as a backwards glance, "and those drinks."

"Wait! Dean!"

His plea landed on deaf ears and soon he lost the other man amongst a small throng of people, there one second and gone the next.

" _Fuck!_ " he shouted towards the heavens, hands flying up to his hair then harshly scrubbing down his face and beard.

Dean didn't make reappearance until the house show and then it was only brief.

He and Roman were summoned to speak with Stephanie in a makeshift office right away. Seth worriedly hung around the door in an attempt to eavesdrop, but the most he could make out was Stephanie's authoritative voice making reprimands. Then he got called away for a promo before either man left the room.

At the end of the night Dean was once again nowhere to be found, the only sign of him being there was his abandoned duffle bag.

"We both got fined and Dean was given the night off," Roman explained somberly while getting changed, "he left hours ago," he shook his head, "honestly it's like…a switch has flipped in him and he ain't my boy all of a sudden. S'like he never was."

Seth listened tensely, unable to keep his hands from fidgeting or his leg from bouncing in apprehension.

"What's happened to him, Seth?"

He wanted to tell Roman, he wanted to so bad. But no matter how much the words danced on the tip of his tongue he couldn't get them vocalized.

"I don't know…" he sighed and dropped his head in his hands then raked them back over his rapidly frizzing hair, "Around me he's…he's Dean. Laid back, off key, dorky Dean."

Roman stared at him intently. "I know how you feel about him, I get it. As much as I hate saying this...right now, with him acting like this…you need to be careful. He's getting dangerous."

The memory of Dean's eyes at the gym flashed through Seth's mind, that homicidal gleam shining in those blue orbs so frighteningly clear. He shook his head free of the recollection.

"Dean won't hurt me, don't worry about that," he said resolutely.

Roman huffed a humorless laugh, staring at him as if he'd sprouted nine extra heads. "Look at what he did to me, Seth. And I thought I was family to him."

"I know how to handle him."

"I'm glad someone does…" the big man rose with a sigh and patted Seth's back on his way out of the locker room, "take care of him. But most importantly, take care of yourself."

Roman's words would continue to bounce around in his head long after the door closed.

He tried Dean's cell several times and left message after message, but gave up once he got tired of hearing the same recording over and over again.

Hauling Dean's things with his own belongings, Seth got into his rental car and booked a room for the two of them. He left one last message on Dean's answering machine telling him where he was roomed and that he hoped he was okay.

It was a waiting game then.

Hours seemed to blur together as he lay alone in the bed staring up at the ceiling, waiting for Dean to call him back or to hear a knock on the door. It was around four in the morning when his exhaustion and stress lead him reluctantly into a light sleep.

Slumber didn't keep him for long though and he was brought back to the waking world by what he thought sounded like retching.

"Nngh…D-Dean?" he called, groggily stumbling from his bed to the attached bathroom, "Dean?"

"Leave me be!" came a venomous hiss.

Dean sat sprawled on the tiled floor with his arms hugging the toilet for dear life, blood staining his lips and chin, his hands, clothes and the porcelain bowl in front of him.

"Oh god! What happened?" he demanded uneasily.

The closer he came the more Seth could pick out nuances of difference in the other, like longer, sharper fingernails. And there was something about Dean's face that seemed more…feral somehow.

Copper and white curls covered blue eyes from view as Dean tipped his head downwards.

"I thought I wanted a walk and some fresh air, maybe a cigarette…but turns out…all I had the urge for was to…t-to," he then grimaced and heaved more of his stomach into the toilet.

Seth kneeled down next to him, his voice more forceful from the adrenaline and fear racing through his body, "What did you _fucking_ do?"

"It wouldn't shut up…I was walking back after I got your message and it wouldn't stop barking at me, the yappy little bastard. A-And then red…red overtook my vision…and it was all I could see. And n-next thing I knew I had its entrails dangling from my mouth."

Seth's eyes widened as he realized the half digested bits being tossed into the toilet were pieces of flesh and organs. A shudder ran through him and felt his stomach flip unpleasantly. A hand covered his mouth as he gulped back his earlier meal from catering.

"You're right," Dean said. Satisfied could throw up no more, he leaned his back against the tiled wall behind him, "Something's wrong with me."

Baby blues filled with unshed tears spoke volumes that he was finally taking Seth's wild idea to heart.

Reaching for a washcloth and turning on warm water from the faucet Seth began gently scrubbing the grisly stains and gore from his brother's face.

At first Dean merely stared at him with a wounded gaze before closing those haunted eyes and leaning into his touch. Seth's breath quietly caught in his throat, but he went on with his task until at least Dean's face was wiped clean.

The silence between them stretched as Seth stripped Dean of his jacket and shirt – his jeans thankfully free of blood – and then Dean cleansed his teeth and mouth.

"I need to stay away from you, Seth."

Seth was almost frozen, rooted in place and useless to do anything about what Dean just said.

The full impact didn't hit Seth until Dean was up and walking passed him, leaving the bathroom, about to leave the hotel room surely.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Dean was carrying a piece of his heart, even if it didn't know it yet and the further he moved away from him, the more Seth's heart strings stretched under the pressure. They were ready to snap.

Before he knew what he was doing he rushed after Dean and threw himself at his back, arms banding around him from behind as he buried his face into the nape of Dean's neck.

"Don't!" he cried pathetically, nuzzling closer to Dean's skin, curly hair tickling his nose, "D-Don't leave."

Dean tensed in his arms, but didn't fight his hold on him. "Let me go."

"No!" Seth only clung tighter, his voice finding some strength, "You don't get to do that."

"Do what?"

A wild stampede of horses thundered in his chest.

"Y-You can just…come into someone's life, forever impact it, then just…up and leave. I care a lot about you, okay? More than I care for a lot of people…"

Dean had shifted during his speech; his head cocking into position as though pricking his ear towards Seth in order to better pick up every syllable.

For a moment Seth thought that Dean was going to listen to him.

"You don't understand Seth," came his rebuttal, "Whatever I'm becoming…I'm a danger; to Roman, to you, to everyone," strong hands pried Seth's arms from around him, "I'm leaving."

Seth jumped into action immediately, blocking the hotel door with his body. "I'm not letting you," his voice trembled at first then filling with all the emotion held in after nearly five years of knowing and secretly pining after the other man, "Dammit Ambrose, I love you for fuck's sake! Have for a long time."

His heart was in his throat now and lightheadedness came over him in the time he waited for Dean's reaction.

Dean's expression was mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Seth…" for a guy who usually was ripe with a comeback, Dean was lacking eloquence.

Could one die from embarrassment? Cause Seth felt like he was dying.

' _Catch your breath Rollins. Dean's well being is more important right now.'_

Seth's eyes lowered to the floor, closing them tight.

"Even if you don't…feel the same, it still stands. I'm your friend, your brother. And I'm not letting you leave until you let me help you."

After another pregnant pause Dean's voice seemed to return, "And if I hurt you in the process? What then? Seth…if anything happened to you-"

Seth's eyes snapped open, "You won't hurt me."

"Oh you don't think so?" Dean humored him sarcastically, "Remember what I did to Roman? Look at what I _just_ did…I tore apart a goddamn dog with my bare hands, and that's not even the worst of it. So forgive me for not taking any chances."

Shoving him aside was no sweat now that Dean's strength was boosted. In defiant return Seth took his hand in an iron grip.

"Seth…" Dean sighed, a halfhearted warning lacing his tone.

"No, I'm not just giving up like you apparently have. There's gotta be something we can do. There's always a solution. We just have to find it."

There was another deep sigh, but then Dean gave him a small smile that warmed his heart, "Always the optimist…"

"You begged me not to get doctors or Vince involved," Seth licked his lips with a frantic swipe of his tongue, "Now I'm begging you. Please stay and let me help."

The smile faded as Dean mulled things over, blue eyes holding his in an intent gaze.

"Only if you promise me that you'll run at the first sign of trouble…and if it comes to it…if your life or anyone else's is at stake…you'll put me down."

Resolutely disagreeing with every fiber of his being, Seth vehemently shook his head. "I can't do that. I won't, Dean."

"You can and you will," Dean snarled forcefully, "promise me or I'm walking out of here. We both know I can."

Seth's lips pursed into a frown and he looked away, an anguishing conflict tormenting him upon hearing Dean's ultimatum.

If he refused this promise, if Dean went away into the night forever and changed, many more people could be at risk. Dean would be at risk of being killed far more heartlessly if he let him go. He couldn't let that happen either.

But could he kill the man he loved?

"I-I…I promise," his voice was small and uncertain. Surely Dean wouldn't believe such a pathetic oath.

In response Seth felt fingers shift in his hand until they twined with his own. Curly bangs tickled his face as Dean pressed their foreheads together, his scruff scratching pleasantly as he tilted his head and placed a chaste kiss onto Seth's lips.

There was a soft sound of surprise that Seth didn't recognize as coming from his own throat before his whole being surrendered and he melted into Dean. Every brush of their lips no matter how petal soft and pure sent waves of electricity from the ends of Seth's hair to the tips of his toes, and he felt those digits curl happily against his feet.

Seth felt the caress of a fang on his lower lip and couldn't hold back a small moan.

All too soon Dean breathlessly pulled away, sculpted chest heaving with more exertion than their mostly innocent kiss should have made him feel.

His pupils suffocated the blue out of his eyes and he looked…hungry.

Knees feeling like Jell-O, Seth leaned against the door so he wouldn't collapse.

"Full moon's coming soon," Seth said lamely.

He pushed himself from the door and lead a slowly cooling Dean towards his bed. Dean pulled at his grip once before allowing him to get him under the covers. He quickly joined him inside the cocoon of blankets and warmth and pecked him between his eyes, those baby blue returning slowly. Dean quickly assumed the role of the big spoon and pressed his face into Seth's shoulder.

"We got tomorrow and the next day off to help us figure this out. Why don't you come home with me?"

A hot puff of air assaulted his skin in the best possible way as Dean let out a low chuckle. "You already wanting me to meet the parents?" he then felt Dean shake his head, "You've got cute little dog, Seth, and I'd hate to make a repeat of tonight. Let's go to Vegas."

"Too populated…" Seth grumbled as he switched off the bedside lamp.

"Not where my place is, it's on the outskirts of the city; we'll be undisturbed there. Plus we can get anything we need in town. Hell, I'm sure there's someone that knows what I'm going through there. Vegas is full of all sorts of people," there was a tender press of lips to his shoulder, "please?"

How could Seth say no now that the lug was sounding so much less defeated.

He'd fucking blow up the moon for Dean if it would save him.

"Anything you want," he replied, already booking the tickets on his phone.

* * *

 **So know our boys have an idea of what's going on.**  
 **Let me know what you think. I've decided to update every Wednesday regardless of feedback, but enough feedback will prompt me to update faster :')**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** **Some vague mentions of drug use and drug-related practices described.**

"Shriek the lips  
Across ragged tongue  
Convulsing together, sing  
Violently move the jaw  
Cry aloud..."

-Rob Zombie, "Superbeast"

* * *

"I'll be fine, I can handle things. Don't worry."

Dean looked over from his position lounging on one of the airport chairs at their designated gate while Seth paced nearby with his phone to his ear. Though his body language read cool as a cucumber, maybe even tired, inside Dean was a wreck.

That morning a gnawing had formed in his stomach breaking him from sleep. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the delectable tan flesh of Seth's shoulder, taunting him, daring him.

He couldn't stop himself from latching his lips there, or from dragging a path from shoulder to ear with his tongue, relishing the taste of salt and something uniquely Seth.

Blood running hot and in need of friction, Dean pressed closer to the curve of Seth's ass.

A tired little groan escaped his lover's lips and the artery in his neck jumped.

Dean remembered his eyes focusing on that thumping vessel with pinpoint precision, his vision starting to cloud over with a different sort of desire.

The beast inside of him stirred, calling for Seth's throat.

Somehow the part of him that was still human, that still carried a moral compass, roiled away in fear and disgust.

Dean felt a mirthless laugh bubble up in his chest, but he kept it down.

Finally, after years of pining, Seth was finally his. Ironically it was only now that they were together that Dean couldn't get close to his boyfriend without feeling the urge to either pound him into the bed or tear him apart.

Life was a cruel mistress…or hell, more like a torturous bitch if he wanted to be more descriptive.

' _I should have seen it coming,'_ he thought, eyes following Seth at the same time he chewed on one of his sharp, overgrown thumbnails.

It was tough. No matter how much he gnawed, the point wouldn't go away.

"I know…I know," Seth looked like an aggravated kid getting a lecture from his parents that he'd heard over and over already, "We'll be back in time, I promise."

Dean thought the scene was cute for as long as he could before the beast poisoned his mind again.

"I'll tell him. Yeah. See ya," Seth ended the call with a sigh. He walked over and plopped down next to Dean, "Man you'd think I was thirteen and not thirty…Roman says hi by the way."

Cautiously Dean wrapped an arm casually around the other's shoulder, his words contradictory to his action, "Maybe Roman was right about you spending your time with someone else."

What he said left a bad taste in his mouth though. The thought of Seth with someone else, in nearly every sense of the word, was enough to send his emotions and the beast caged inside him into frenzy.

Seth leaned his cheek on Dean's shoulder, twining their fingers tightly together. "Shut up, Ambrose," he muttered with no real heat behind his words.

Dean pressed a kiss to Seth's temple and squeezed his hand in response.

Maybe he just didn't deserve something as good as Seth, no matter how much he tried to scrub his life clean. To be the best version of himself he possibly could.

Maybe all his hard work would never be enough.

The feeling of Seth's head shifting from under his chin and fingers pushing back the hair from his ear broke Dean from his uncharacteristic melancholy.

"Hey, is your ear still pierced?"

Dean's throat tightened as Seth's fingers brushed the tiny empty hole of his left earlobe. He swallowed and said, "Not sure. Might be closed."

Seth hummed thoughtfully, the pad of his thumb brushing over the fleshy skin once more.

"Read that silver could be a cure."

"Where you'd get that from, Hollywood?"

"No," Seth grumbled and pillowed his head back on his shoulder. He pulled out his phone began scrolling through it, "It's from a site on old folklore. Says here that the silver has to be blessed."

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. _'Great. Now I'm not just a freak show animal, but an agent of the devil.'_

"C'mon, work with me, Dean. If there wasn't some sort of cure, there'd be all sorts of those things running around."

"Alright, alright."

He hoped that things were that easy, but he wasn't putting his stock in it.

Life was rarely so simple.

* * *

The two and a half hour plane ride to Las Vegas was mostly uneventful, consisting mostly him and Seth joking and recounting old stories from their indie days. But no matter how light their chitchat was, the grip he kept on Seth's hand and the way Seth eyes seemed to soak him up belied their flippancy.

It kind of gave Dean the idea of what it felt like to be terminally ill. In a sense he was.

It really sucked.

The moment they landed Seth didn't even wait for them to get to his place and drop their shit off. First business they took care of was to buy an earring with the purest silver content they could find.

"Alright, you know a good priest around here?"

Dean smirked, "What, you wanna get married?"

"Can't you be serious?" A bit of pink formed on bronze cheeks.

"Maybe I am."

That got that little blush to spread all over Seth's face.

He couldn't hold back anymore. His smirk grew until laugher felt like it was splitting his face in two. "Y-You should reeeeallly s-see your f-face."

Dean adored the other man's blush, lived for it.

Seth seemed less than impressed and more hurt. He rolled his eyes and started walking down the Vegas strip.

"Hey wait!" Dean called as he used his long legs to swiftly catch up, "sorry."

"Don't play around like that," his boyfriend snapped, then looked regretful of the anger fueling his words. He looked down, "just don't…"

Dean's chest constricted and suddenly he felt incredibly stupid.

"Seth…I'm sorry," he wrapped an arm around Seth's waist, "I didn't mean – I-I just tend to joke around and go off on dumb tangents when I'm really fucking nervous."

Man he really wanted a cigarette right now.

Coming to an abrupt stop, Seth cupped his face with both hands and stared at him with determined brown eyes. Dean didn't realize he'd been shaking until Seth held him still.

"Hey, look at me. You're gonna be okay. We're _gonna_ fix this."

Dean couldn't. Involuntary tears blurred his vision and he screwed his eyes shut against them.

"What if we can't? I mean life has always had a way of fucking me over no matter how much I march on, and it seems like it's found a way to get whole lot more creative—"

A soft pair of lips sealed over his, effectively silencing him and he immediately returned the kiss, arms circling around Seth and holding him tight to his body.

For once the beast was mute.

Dean could have sobbed in relief and cried Hallelujah to the heavens.

Taking a chance, he nibbled on Seth's lower lip and was rewarded with a breathy gasp. His tongue met no resistance as it darted inside that welcoming mouth and happily explored.

Seth tasted of coffee and some sort of spice, a flavor Dean could quickly learn to get addicted to.

"Dean…" Seth panted, his voice coming out needy.

Upon hearing his name spoken like a sweet benediction Dean slid his hands slowly, firmly up and down Seth's muscled back, worshipping the other man with his touch. In turn Seth's hands were tangled in his copper and white-streaked hair, gripping and pulling with a frantic sense of urgency.

Dean finished the kiss only when they both required air and then simply shifted his head so his chin rested on his boyfriend's shoulder. Seth mirrored his movement, fingers clutching at the back of his leather jacket.

"I love you, ya know that?" he croaked, "I live for you and wrestling, nothing else."

Seth said not a word. He didn't have to as he desperately pulled Dean impossibly closer, body trembling slightly.

Dean buried his face into his lover's bronze neck and the wavy dark hair had escaped its hair tie, breathing Seth in deeply before reluctantly pulling away completely.

The beast was still dormant, but he wasn't sure how long that would last.

"I know a good priest."

The corners of Seth's mouth lifted. "Lead on."

An hour later they finally made it to Dean's place with the blessed earring and some take out for lunch. The priest had eyed them skeptically upon the request, but after an offer of a $1000 donation to the church, he readily accepted it with zeal.

Leaning against his kitchen table after throwing out the trash from their meal, Dean asked, "So how we gonna do this? How long will it take to work?"

Seth shook his head. He eyed the silver loop as he carefully turned it over in his fingers then looked up at Dean through thick black lashes, "I dunno, let's just try it and see what happens. C'mere."

Pushing off from the table Dean stepped across the kitchen to the spot on his countertop that now Seth perched. He turned his head to the side and pushed his rapidly lengthening hair away from his left ear to give Seth better access.

There was the sound of Seth removing the silver ball stopper then a touch of coolness as the thin metal slipped into the hole in his ear.

"Shit, it's kinda stuck. Hold on."

Dean somewhat expected to feel pain or some sort of indication that the silver was making some sort of affect on his body, but he felt nothing but a small pop as his piercing reopened after Seth pushed with a tad more force. The ball was then clicked back into place preventing the ring from falling out.

"There, it's in. How do you feel?"

"Unless everything wolfy about me has miraculously gone back to normal," he said, turning to face Seth again, "I don't feel a thing."

Seth smoothed the hair back from Dean's face, legs shifting to either side of his waist. "Maybe it takes some time…"

Dean relaxed against Seth and his touch, but his words were said with a growl of frustration, "I don't have time…are there any other cures listed on that little site?"

The body curled around him flinched then went rigid.

"It said another remedy is wolfsbane, which is a poisonous plant," Seth sighed and looked to the side, "we could kill you trying to cure you. Doesn't sound like much of an option."

Dean found Seth's concern endearing, but if they didn't reverse this impending transformation then he'd rather be dead than become some mindless animal bent on ripping everything he loved apart.

"Maybe it won't kill me if we use it in small doses."

"But Dean—"

"You wanted to take a chance on me," he cut Seth off firmly, but without malice, "I'm willing to try every option, even at the risk of death."

Seth shook his head, letting out shaky sigh, "So then how would we administer this safely? I mean the poison can be absorbed into the skin. That's how dangerous it is…"

"Very small doses," Dean deadpanned, "small doses injected right into the bloodstream."

Brown eyes widened in surprise.

"Are you serious?"

"I saw something on a show once," he explained, pulling away from Seth completely and pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. "It was about a snake handler who injected small amounts of snake venom into himself and eventually became immune to it. Figured this could be the same." He then began making a list, "Gloves, alcohol, cotton balls, syringes, wolfsbane…ya know where to get wolfsbane?"

Seth was already scrolling on his phone when Dean looked over his shoulder.

"Seems it's perennial…we'd have to grow it from seeds…"

Dean let out a curse and slammed his fist down on the table.

"Oh wait. There's a craft store here that sells dried wolfsbane."

"Bingo," Dean relaxed his shoulders and turned around fully, "here," he said, handing Seth the list he had written out, "I'll get the syringes, you get the other stuff."

Seth accepted the list but eyed Dean cautiously. "Where are you gonna get them?"

"I know a guy here that's diabetic, gets needles in bulk. I'll just pay him a visit, ask to use the bathroom and swipe a few of 'em."

"Now we're stealing from people?"

Dean shrugged, "Safer than getting 'em from the drug dealers around here."

He didn't hear Seth make a peep as he grabbed the keys to his truck and tossed them into his boyfriend's reflexive grasp.

"Take the truck. It's got good air conditioning."

Not waiting to see or hear the other's reaction, Dean pushed aside the nagging feeling that he was reverting to past tendencies and trudged out into the muggy Las Vegas heat. He was doing what he needed to do to survive, that's all that there was to it.

Turned out it wasn't as easy as Dean thought to get procure a pocketful of syringes from Ben Kodlack, one of the first people he befriended when he took up residency in Vegas.

Normally he didn't mind the middle aged, Viking-esque man, but he had told himself and Ben that he could only stay for a brief visit. Ben turned that idea on its head though when he offered Dean a beer, saying that surely he had enough time out of his busy schedule for that.

Dean didn't want to seem like a douchebag so he agreed.

Of course one little beer with Ben Kodlack was cue for a few hours spent shooting the shit, and the guy could spin a yarn ten miles long. It was a trait that endeared him to Dean, but now, with the full moon and transformation into a bloodthirsty monster looming, Dean was agitated with having to sit idly and listen to such frivolous tales.

Besides, the beast was itching to rip Ben's head from his shoulders.

"Look man," he interrupted as politely as he could with bloodlust raging in his veins, "I hate to take off, but I gotta. Workload's been getting heavier and really need to catch some Z's in my own bed. Can I just use your bathroom before I go?"

"Oh," Ben blinked, apparently taken out of his own little world, "Yeah no problem, Dean. Sorry to keep you, but ya know me."

Dean forced an understanding smile, or what he hoped looked like one, before rising to his feet and stalking off down the hall.

Once inside Ben's bathroom he made to quickly grab some needles, stash them in the inside pocket of his jacket, and book it (he'd apologize to Ben later if leaving without a goodbye pisses him off), but a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror gave him pause on his way out.

Intense blue orbs stared back him, so blue and bright that they were glowing from right out of his skull.

Stumbling back from the mirror, Dean practically took the door down from its hinges as he ran from Ben's house.

He didn't stop running until he reached the front lawn of his own property.

It was nightfall by that time and there was almost a physical pull on Dean from the swiftly waxing moon hanging in the sky above his head. He looked up at it mournfully. He felt like it was taunting him with the seductive caress of its lunar light.

"This better work," he muttered to himself bitterly then made his way inside.

He found Seth waiting for him on the living room couch, watching a rerun of an episode of Family Guy on his Netflix. As soon as he walked in, the television was immediately switched off.

"Did you get them?"

Dean nodded. "We gotta do this now," he panted.

"What do you mean?" Seth's brows were pinched then his seemed to catch on to the newest transformation in Dean's appearance. He jumped up and rushed to the kitchen, "I've got everything in here."

Dean followed on his heels. He took in the sight of the very supplies he asked for then reached into his jacket pocket for the needles and his pants pocket for his lighter.

"This better fucking work…" he repeated gravely.

Seth took him by the chin, turning him so that they were face to face, and cupped his cheeks tenderly, "If it doesn't work, we'll go to plan C."

"We're running out of time to go to a plan C," he argued while tugging on the ring adorning his ear, "Silver is out, man, I know it's not working. I can feel it…"

Seth pulled him into a hug and just held him, cradling his head for a long time.

"I won't let it take you from me," Seth murmured softly next to his ear.

A rough chuckle escaped his throat, "You sound determined about little old me. How do you know you won't get tired of me?"

"This is you were talking about," Seth nuzzled his neck, "If a day ever comes where you bore me, it will be the day I've died. I never thought I'd love something more than wrestling, but from the moment we first met...Dean, you…you electrified me. That shit doesn't just go away."

"Say it again," Dean urged with a nip to the neck.

Seth inhaled sharply at the attention he was receiving, "…You electrify me."

The beast reared its head and Dean shivered with adrenaline, but forced his animal instincts back and pulled away.

"If that's how you feel, then let's get to work on this cure."

Together inside his kitchen they set to work, plucking the flowers from the dried wolfsbane with gloved hands.

The petals were placed in a tablespoon full of alcohol then Dean flicked on his lighter and set the flame to burn under the swell of the spoon.

Seth curiously watched the process, one that Dean learned years ago when times weren't so great for him. Surely the younger man knew just where he had learned it, but he remained stoic, his gaze holding no accusations.

Dean was thankful for it.

The alcohol started to bubble signaling that it was time to introduce the cotton ball, the white fluff quickly soaking up the violet concoction.

"Well…this is it," Dean said as he drew up a dose and evacuated any air bubbles from the syringe.

Seth suddenly looked nervous. He began to fidget with his hands and tap his foot rhythmically.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

All the fidgeting stopped but Seth still looked uneasy.

"I'll go in the other room so you don't have to watch." Dean stood up to leave.

"No…stay. I'll just look away," Seth said, pushing him back into his seat.

Dean let out a grunt and started prodding the crook of his elbow in search of a vein. His one-man audience attempted to look unfazed, but he could tell Seth was affected.

"Relax, Rollins," he drawled exaggeratedly, letting a little humor into his voice.

Uncomfortable that his worry was identified despite his best efforts, Seth face became faintly flushed. He shifted once more and finally looked away completely, leaving Dean to focus on what he was looking for.

A thick blue vein came into view just below his skin moments later after some coaxing. Dean tied a strip of cloth tightly around his arm above his target area before the vein could retreat.

For a sixty long seconds he merely stared at it, watching the blue vessel pulse with blood under his skin. The more he observed it the more he could spot a trail of blackness mixing with the blue, slowly swimming it's way up his arm.

It was the infection, the beast, worming its way towards his very core.

Dean frowned down at his invader and just barely stopped himself from jamming the syringe into his arm out of anger and defiance. Instead he calmed his nerves, cleansed the area, and slipped the needle into his skin, carefully breeching the vein before pushing the plunger home.

The wolfsbane instantly burned white-hot and he had to fight off a whimper working its way up his throat.

"It's done."

Seth faced him again, seeming both relieved and on the edge of his seat. "How do you feel?"

Dean loosened the binding on his arm and rubbed some feeling back into it. "Like my arm is on fire, but it's good."

"Now it's a waiting game."

Nodding he sat back in his chair. "So just try and relax—"

A hot throb of pain tore throughout Dean's body and he doubled over and tumbled to the floor. The last thing he remembered before his vision went dark was Seth standing over him, voice fading out as he screamed his name, and then the sensation that his skin was stretching way too tightly over his muscles and bones, verging on ripping.

* * *

 **Some folklore says that wolfsbane keeps werewolves away or cures them, but others say that it does the exact opposite. Hope you enjoyed!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Though I'd give a double update this week. Enjoy~**_

* * *

Panic immediately flooded Seth as he watched Dean, normally sound and strong, collapse in a spasming heap on the floor.

"Shit! Dean!" he cried, rushing to his boyfriend's side.

Blood and foam flowed out of Dean's mouth and the tendons in his arms and neck stood out dangerously from beneath his flesh while he thrashed about.

Seth shifted Dean's flailing weight as much as he could with one hand so that the latter didn't choke on the fluid coming up, the thumb of his other hand shaking, frantically dialing 911 on his phone.

His motor skills were shot from fear and adrenaline and he punched the numbers in twice before they showed up correctly on the screen.

That was when he felt an unnatural shifting of muscle and bone under his touch. The sound of something ripping wetly filled his ears followed by a distinctly inhuman growl.

Seth paused before dropping his phone, a feeling of dread overcoming him when the skin under his hand fell away to be replaced by damp fur, covered as though with some sort of afterbirth.

"Dean?"

Another growl rattled his bones and the body – what used to be Dean – lifted itself to its haunches then to a standing position, all four feet rooted to the ground in a purely feral nature.

White fur rippled under his hand as thick chords of muscle jumped underneath flesh with every movement. Crouched on the floor, Seth was a child next to the massive animal.

Seth knew he should be running far away – every cell of his being was crying out for it, but he couldn't bring himself to remove his hand from the creature his lover had become, the fear of losing Dean forever greater than the fear for his life.

A sob wrecked his throat as he gave another weak call, "D-Dean?"

There was another shifting as it turned its head so that it was looking back and he caught his first glimpse of the wolf's face. It was too close to what he'd seen attack Dean outside the bar that one muggy night in Baltimore that they were practically one in the same.

A long, tooth-filled muzzle snarled while eerie glowing blue eyes leered at him with nothing short of malice.

Only then did Seth's hand recoil from the wolf and he darted backwards until he managed to stumble to his feet with relatively little incident.

"Dean…"

The wolf tracked his every movement even as its body turned so that they were facing each other, eyes dilating into two black holes with every step he took to put distance between them.

Bad idea on his part.

Seth attributed his timely dodge of the wolf's explosive lunge to nothing but luck and his agility. A less disciplined man would be dead.

Dean's sparse furniture and belongings went flying as Seth bolted towards the garage so he could attempt at barricading himself inside, the wolf literally biting at his heels the whole way.

He was able to make it inside the house-connected garage but could not shut the wooden door in time before the wolf's head breached the closing gap, its snapping maw snagging the leg of his sweatpants.

"Fuck! Dean, it's me!" he shrieked as he fought simultaneously to both free his leg and shove the wolf out of the room.

The wolf paid no heed, gave no hesitation to signal that there was anything left of Dean inside. The only emotion it expressed was a maddening desire to tear him limb from limb.

Dean was gone.

A strange sort of numbing fog flooded Seth, one where he could still move and all of his five senses worked, but he was emotionally blocked, stuck on autopilot per survival instinct while a hastily growing void was consuming him within.

Seth ripped his leg free without suffering any injury then used his own body to barricade the door against the wolf entering further.

Dean was gone.

The wolf bellowed low in its throat and gave a mighty shove, splintering the door and the frame in the process. The power of it sent Seth slipping forward on the smooth concrete floor and had he not dropped to the floor and braced the soles of his feet against the tires of Dean's truck, the wolf would be inside.

Pushing back with all his strength, a furious howl split his ears as consequence.

Seth flinched, a whimper escaping unbidden.

Dean was gone.

Seth's heartbeat sounded a million miles away and at the same time overwhelmingly loud in his ears as his emotionally wrecked organ pumped on, dull and heavy against his ribcage.

He couldn't even register the tears clogging his vision.

Though the wolf continued its onslaught on the door, Seth's will to fight began slipping, his fear subsiding into anguish and self-loathing. After all it was he who begged Dean to take a shot at a cure. It was he who had put down the oath that he wouldn't let Dean become a mindless beast.

And what did he have to show for it?

Now instead of curing Dean, Seth had issued what amounted to a death sentence upon his own lover.

Seth's chest gave a painful twist before his heart carried on its lifeless thudding march, merely prolonging his suffering.

Once heartfelt promises and pleas now felt hollow and meaningless.

What was the point in fighting, in surviving, in going on living if Dean was no longer there by his side?

An essential part of Seth had been torn from him, lost and locked forever inside of the bloodthirsty animal on the other side of the door.

' _There is no point anymore…'_

Seth was so deep in his own misery, detached from everything that he didn't realize the snarls and howls had ceased and the force pressing against the door was gone.

Only when his back leaned too much against the cracked wood and the door shut with a resounding thud amidst the sudden hush did Seth wake again to his surroundings and take them in.

The silence was deafening and unnerving.

Shifting minutely, he turned so that he could press a hand against the door. There was no pressure on the other side.

' _Where's the wolf?'_

Sniffling the worst of his tears and snot back, Seth gathered what was left of his wits and crept around so that he was facing the battered door. Pushing his despair aside for the moment, he placed an ear quietly to the splintered wood and listened.

At first he heard nothing, but after straining his hearing he caught the muffled sound of heavy breathing on the other side.

Seth held his breath as he slowly turned the knob in his hand and cracked the door a few inches.

Between the small gap his eyes met the sight of a large fur covered ribcage rising and falling with labored gasps as though getting a lungful of air was an intense task.

Without thought of himself Seth opened the door wide to get a full picture of what was going on. There on the floor he found the wolf lying prone on its side, blue eyes closed to the world and red tongue lolling out of its rapidly panting muzzle.

Falling to his hands and knees, he crawled over to the weakening beast covered in its own blood and cradled the massive head in his lap. The wolf did nothing to dislodge him or attack; it simply licked its lips and went back to panting.

Now that he was up close and personal with it, Seth could see nuances about the wolf that he never took into account before, like the copper tinge to what he thought was solid platinum fur, fur that flared out into a mane-like growth at the back of the neck. How the body was pure muscle, but not bogged down by that fact, and though the canine features were heavily mutated from that of a normal wolf, they were symmetrical.

This creature was more than just an evolutionary killing machine; it was also ruggedly beautiful; just like Dean.

' _Dean…'_

Seth's heart gave another clench and he bent forward to press his lips to the shuddering brow of his lover's beastly form.

"I-I'm s-so s-sorry," he whispered.

Dean's broad conical ears twitched but he gave no other outwardly show that he understood.

"Y-You're dying…aren't y-you?" Seth let out a shaky breath then held Dean closer, "I-I t-thought I c-could s-save you...I t-though I c-could…"

He pushed his hands soothingly up and down the white fur that covered the length of Dean's body. If he couldn't save Dean, then he was damn sure he was going to comfort him to his last breath.

Dean gave a big, huffing exhale, then abruptly his muscles and bones began jumping uncontrollably as his body quaked with intense spasms. Seth tightened his arms around the wolf in an attempt to ease the suffering, cheeks streaked with fresh tears. His eyes screwed tightly shut, his emotional pain striking him on a physical level.

"I-I love y-you s-so much, Dean."

Seth was dreadfully certain that when the form in his arms stilled that it was the end. That was until he felt Dean's anatomy shifting, rearranging, and the fur coat begin to recede into warm flesh.

Brown eyes snapped open, staring in bewilderment as the wolf morphed gradually back to man, fur melting away up to the scars that initially started this whole mess.

Shaking his head of what he witnessed, Seth's hand flew to Dean's neck where he could feel for a pulse.

It was there, bordering on the weak side, but there.

Seth let out a giddy, albeit tearful laugh. Another laugh was bubbling up, but he held it back in order to check Dean over more thoroughly.

Dean was unconscious, but seemed to be so out of exhaustion more than anything.

The wolf was gone, down to the blood that stained its fur. Almost everything that became feral in appearance on Dean's human form was also gone. The only thing keeping Seth from outright celebrating aloud were the scars on Dean's shoulder and chest.

They felt hot to the touch when Seth traced them and his fingers snagged a few long course strands of fur among many that still sprouted up from the lines of raised skin.

Still, having Dean back as a human was a great reprieve to all the emotions Seth had been shouldering just moments ago.

Seth cupped Dean's face, one hand brushing some copper bangs back as the thumb of his opposite hand followed the lower curve of Dean's lips, lips he thought he'd never get to see or the chance to feel again.

"I-I don't think w-we're quite outta the woods y-yet, Deano," he whispered, more so as a reminder to himself, then gently yet longingly laid his lips upon that of his lover's.

Dean was his again, for now at least.

' _I should get him more comfortable.'_

Warmth spread across Seth's face as he realized that Dean was naked and he'd have to dress the comatose man himself. Of course this wasn't the first time he'd seen the other man naked, but this was a more personal level of nudity.

Dean wasn't even aware of what was going on, and Seth felt a little like it was bordering on violation…even if Dean was his boyfriend.

In his mind Seth could hear what Dean would likely say, _' "Buck up, Princess. We don't have time for this." '_

Seth flushed again, this time more out of anger at his own insecurities.

He left Dean's body only to swiftly grab some of the other man's boxer shorts packed away in his suitcase.

Throwing caution to the wind Seth began his task, trying to complete it as quickly and as unaffected as he possibly could, but he would have been a man without a pulse if he didn't take notice of Dean's body.

How soft his skin was in some places and rough and scarred in others from his time in the indies. The unsuspecting power in Dean's legs and thighs, and the incredible slimness of his waist, its trim form emphasized even more by his broad chest and shoulders.

Seth could be almost envious of such a physical combination, and don't get him started on Dean's –

He caught himself staring as a new sort of heat enveloped him so quickly he shook himself off.

"Dammit Rollins. Focus!"

A few moments later he accomplished his task of pulling the waistband up Dean's slim hips then attempt to pull the bigger man's frame up so he could drag him along to the master bedroom.

Ever since he was bitten, Dean's skin always seemed a little tighter around his frame, as though containing a form much larger underneath that sun kissed flesh of his.

Seth now knew that it was the wolf residing inside Dean that gave him his body that constrained appearance, and it went further than that, affecting his weight as well.

Dean's dead weight barely budged with Seth's effort.

Cursing softly, Seth dropped Dean's arms and decided on hefting his boyfriend's body onto his shoulders in a typical fireman's carry. Though his shoulders mildly protested Dean's weight change, he was able to unload his sleeping cargo onto the king sized bed below.

After making his charge more comfortable under the covers, Seth got himself undressed down to his boxer briefs then climbed into bed as well. He snuggled as close as he could to the warmth of Dean's body.

Pulling out his phone and switching Dean's television on low – mostly because a little background noise helped him think better – he wasted no time in resuming his research and reevaluating the information he found.

He spent the remainder of the night reading through every website on werewolves he could find, from historical accounts and legends to cheesy blogs. Considering the extraordinary circumstances surrounding Dean, he was willing to examine every avenue, no matter how kooky it sounded.

However he'd have to tread more lightly this time after the episode with the wolfbane.

By early morning he had compiled a more thorough list of proposed cures, but he was still uncertain of what he should try first. The full moon was less than a week away now.

Sighing, Seth put away his phone then looked over at Dean.

Another wave of emotion hit him as he recalled the feelings that overwhelmed him when he thought Dean was lost to him, dead even. It was something he never wanted to experience again, though he knew it could easily happen a second time.

But Dean was here with him again, for the moment.

Seth suppressed a relieved sob, his lower lip trembling in its place, and wrapped Dean up in his arms. Dean's heart rate was strengthening, thumping steadily under his ear like the comforting beat of a drum. For a while he just listened to it.

He could listen to it forever, but he didn't have forever to work with right now.

Though he didn't want to pull away or leave a still unconscious Dean, Seth felt that a nice jog could clear his head and help relieve some stress, so after checking his boyfriend's vitals more thoroughly, Seth threw on some light clothes, grabbed his water bottle, and left the house.

Seth planned to make the jog a quick one due to Dean's condition and the soaring Nevada heat, but the more he tried to calm his mind, the more he felt his habit of thinking too long and hard take charge. So he kept going in hopes of forcing the anxious doubts from his thoughts.

Before he knew it he had jogged all the way to the center of the Vegas strip, panting and sweating up a storm.

"Shit…" he muttered, placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. A long swig from his water bottle came shortly after.

He was about to turn back the direction he came when he recalled something Dean had mentioned about there being all sorts of people in Las Vegas. Maybe someone here could give him answers.

"Why the hell not?" he asked no one in particular and continued forward at a more sedate pace.

Dean was right. There were all sorts of people here, even in broad daylight.

From tourists and routine gamblers to shady dealers and call girls, from flamboyant street performers and clubbers – some clubs never closed it seemed – to hobos and junkies. Vegas had it all.

Well all it seemed except for what he was actually looking for, then again Seth wasn't sure what that something was.

What was he supposed to do, go around asking people if they knew about werewolves or put up fliers with his contact information?

Everyone would probably think he was on something, because werewolves weren't supposed to exist – and yet Dean existed and his problem was a very real one.

Seth stopped and leaned against a building, hands roughly raking through his hair and face in overwrought exasperation. His nerves were frayed, hanging by mere tethers. The stress from the previous night and the lack of sleep weren't helping either.

He couldn't just give up now, but his jumbled mind couldn't formulate a coherent next move.

"You look troubled, băiat," said a voice in a thick accent he could not place.

Seth whipped his head up and to the right to find a little crone of an old woman standing at the top of the front stoop of the building he was resting against.

"Perhaps Mama Lupei can give answers," her welcoming smile held gaps from missing and crooked teeth and he noted how bony her fingers looked as she beckoned him to her.

Seth's brow quirked in question at her, but he couldn't help his pique in interest.

If he wasn't mistaken, her surname meant wolf in some other language.

The sign hanging over the old woman's establishment then grabbed up his attention, cultivating and growing his curiosity.

 **Mama Lupei's Fortune Readings and Mystic Shop.**

In Seth's opinion all psychics and palm readers were a load of crap. Hell if someone asked him a month ago if he believed in werewolves, Seth would have laughed in their face.

But as it was his very own boyfriend was one such mythical creature.

What other legends and folklore existed in this world, just beneath the surface of reality?

She could be a charlatan or she could be the key to curing Dean.

"Depends," Seth finally answered, pushing off the wall to approach her, just close enough to lean his forearms upon the railing at the bottom of the steps. "Can you tell me about werewolves?"

Mama Lupei's face shifted from an expression of warmth, to shock, then to revulsion.

Letting loose something in her native tongue (a curse he suspected), she spat on the ground and disappeared surprisingly fast back into her shop.

By her reaction she knew about them all right.

Seth took the stairs three steps at a time and doggedly pursued her inside.

Lupei did her best to ignore him, pretending to busy herself with organizing jars containing ingredients he'd never laid his eyes on before.

"Ma'am please, I just want to know how—"

"No talk of werewolves!" she snapped at him.

Seth pursed his lips to keep himself from snapping right back. "Look," he sighed, "my friend…he's changing…has already changed. I'd give my right arm for him…so please…if there's a cure, you gotta tell me. I _can't_ lose him."

"Full moon has not yet come," she eyed him sharply, "you gave him wolfsbane then?"

"Yes."

"Bah…wolfsbane no cure. Brings out wolf."

"Yeah I already gathered that…"

"When full moon comes, your friend will change again," Lupei shook her head and carried on puttering about her shop, "he's almost gone already."

"Almost gone?"

"When he changes to wolf for third time, he will never change back. It will happen in two full moon's time now because of wolfsbane, not three."

"But you said he's _almost_ gone," Seth pressed frantically, "he can still be cured, right?"

Mama Lupei glared at him as if he were some piece of sludge stuck to her boot. "You threaten me and my shop with talk of werewolves…I want compensation."

"If you tell me what I need to do and it works, I'll pay you whatever you want." Seth wasn't beyond begging.

"Fine," the old woman said as she waddled to the front door and flipped the sign so that it read closed.

* * *

 _ **Băiat means "boy" or "lad" in Romanian.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Warning: Scene of attempted suicide ahead. Turn back now if that bothers you.**_

* * *

As he turned back from the precipice of darkness and crawled towards the edge of consciousness Dean registered a familiar softness supporting his supine body, a cocoon of warmth surrounding him. A heavy ache plagued his entire body like never before, leading him to feel like he never wanted to leave this chrysalis.

The only thing that would soothe him more was to be closer to Seth.

Dean eased himself onto his side, groaning at even the tiniest of movements, then reached across the bed. All that he found there was the neat and empty expanse of the other side of the mattress. It was cold to the touch.

Discontent mounted beyond physical pain. He ached for Seth's presence. No matter how bad he felt, Dean wanted, needed to be near his boyfriend.

The fog of sleep fading, Dean bolted upright as the memory of last night smacked him like a brick to the head.

The wolfsbane.

Dean remembered that almost immediately after injecting it into his vein he started feeling horrible, like he was on the verge of dying and being born all over again. What did that stuff do to him?

He examined his hands, noting that his fingernails were normal human nails again, which caused his hands to fly to his face. The beard that he could hardly keep trimmed was gone and the untamable curls that were on their way to reaching the end of his nose had retreated back to level with his brow.

Was he cured?

A look in the mirror inside the adjoining bathroom revealed that his hair no longer bore the white streaks that had been taking over his head the last few weeks. His eyes didn't carry that supernatural glow and his canines shrunk back and were more rounded.

Dean could have kissed his own reflection.

He would have had he not spotted the hairy scars on his chest and shoulder that refused to go away.

"N-No…no…" he scratched his blunt nails over them as though they were a residue to be scraped away.

It was like waking up from a pleasant dream to be greeted with a nightmare. Except this nightmare was his reality.

" _Fuck_!"

Before he could hold himself in check Dean smashed his fist into the mirror, fracturing his reflection into a distorted, macabre mosaic. Despite the ache that lingered in his bones, his knuckles felt none of the abuse he inflicted upon the glass. Not even a drop of blood or the smallest hint of broken skin.

What happened last night? And where was Seth? Surely he heard that outburst.

Dean canted his head and listened.

Earlier he barely heard his television over the buzz in his own head, but now he heard it loud and clear as a news anchor discussed routine Vegas crime. The timber of his house settling raked loudly across his eardrums, sounding more like screams rather than creaking. He could hear the voice of his next-door neighbor who lived a good half-acre from his house as she gossiped with her friend on the phone. So acute was his hearing that he could pick up the sounds of worms and bugs burrowing around in the dirt below the foundation.

None of that unsettled him though, he'd been getting used to the acuteness of his hearing for a little while now. What did was the fact that he couldn't hear Seth anywhere in or around his property.

His next instinct was to use the most improved and keenest sense after the bite, his sense of smell. Seth's scent was present, but not strong enough to show he was still around.

The most alarming thing was despite the fact that he had not drawn blood after breaking the mirror he could smell it so potently in the air that he practically had its coppery taste on his tongue.

Fear blossomed in Dean's heart and bloomed even more so once he dashed out of his room and searched his house. Seth was nowhere to be found and his kitchen looked as though a tornado blew through it, broken chairs and his heavy table overturned, plates and utensils scattered everywhere.

Then there was the short hallway and door leading from his kitchen to his garage. Clumps of white and blond fur littered the floor and the wood of the door was battered with cracks.

The bloody marks that scored up the wood both relieved and heightened his anxiety. The blood and lacerations weren't from Seth as they were more animalistic in nature, but that also could only mean one thing.

It was his own blood dried inside the grooves of those claw marks because apparently the wolfsbane triggered him to change.

The door was half open to the garage. Though the blood did not extend beyond the threshold, and the fact that the scent of Seth he found coming from inside the garage was also fading, Dean had to check with his own eyes that there was no body.

Dean found a ripped piece of fabric with Seth's scent all over it, but there was no sign that he had killed him in his wolf form.

All he could piece together from the scene, with some remnants of hope, was that he had changed and chased Seth, who had somehow gotten away. That had to be it.

"…Ben Kodlack has been identified as the man discovered killed outside his home late last night..."

Dean's ears pricked, his attention shifting back to the news anchor several rooms away on his flatscreen.

"…Authorities suspect the victim was attacked by a pack of coyotes or another large indigenous predator due to the coroner's examination of the body. Though neighbors reported hearing of wolf-like howls during the time in question, wolves are not one of Nevada's abundant predators…"

The remainder of the report dissolved into white noise in the back of Dean's head as full body tremors overtook him, nearly causing him to crumple to the concrete with each step he took back into his house. Traces of bile from his queasy stomach laced his saliva, threatening to make him retch. He held it in with the back of his hand, stumbling unfeelingly into his bedroom and towards his bed.

Dean fell to his knees next to it, intent on finding the unassuming shoebox he kept underneath the mattress. His fingers felt clumsy with sweat and numbness when they came into contact with the cardboard.

His hands continued to quiver while he dragged the box out before him to uncover the unloaded Glock 19 inside. The 9mm magazine was placed with the gun for easy access, but between his shaky hands and the tears blurring his vision, a task he normally could pull off over and over again from muscle memory was severely impaired.

Eventually he got his hands to cooperate. The magazine slammed home and the slider slipped smoothly back into place with an air of finality to his overly sensitive ears.

For a few minutes he just stared at semi-automatic in his hands, hushing his mind of the fears and doubts writhing around his brain in a tangled mess.

Dean always imagined himself dying young. Maybe it came with having the upbringing he had, or the lack of it. Living as a kid who raised himself was a life wrought with danger.

Even though he had a few hiccups, he whole-heartedly tried to avoid such a fast ending, took what precautions he could. Still the idea of one day someone finding him dead in a ditch somewhere before his 30th birthday stuck with him.

Never once did he think he'd die by his own hand, but here he was, just a few short months to 31 with his own gun to his temple, the option of offing himself before he no longer had any control over himself sounding better and better with each passing second.

Sniffling back tears and snot, Dean set his jaw in resolve of what was about to do, what he had to do.

' _I love you, Seth. I'm sorry.'_

Just as he was inching his pointer finger for the trigger, a familiar scent of sweat and aftershave pricked his nose. He heard jogging footsteps on his front porch followed quickly by his front door opening.

"Dean. You up?" Seth called from the living room.

Dean's lower lip trembled at the very sound of his boyfriend's voice and the Glock suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. A shuddering breath he didn't realize he had been holding in left his mouth and his hand dropped heavily into his lap.

"Dean?" Seth walked into the bedroom, eyes meeting his, "Oh, you are awake." He couldn't see the gun from the angle Dean was sitting, the bed between them.

Dean looked up wearily. He felt so incredibly tired. "Why did you come back, Seth?"

Dark eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "To see if you were okay…because I love you…I was—"

"To see if I was okay?" Dean parroted, then his voice rose in a mixture of fury and misery, "Considering last night, do I look okay? Huh? Are you a fucking idiot?!"

Seth's jaw tightened, his brown eyes hardening; looking for all the world like he was going to retaliate to Dean's harsh words with his own. Dean didn't expect him to swallow back that retort and dial down his anger.

"I get it…I do…but I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't get it!" Dean snapped, "Not after what's happened. I may be turning into a werewolf, but I'm not crazy enough to think that you being around me is safe for you anymore."

"Dammit Dean! Will you listen to me for one Goddamn second?" Now Seth was losing his cool.

Dean didn't care if he did, so long as he wised up and got the hell away.

"There's nothing to listen to. I killed a man…almost killed you. There's nothing to left to discuss."

"What?" Seth's face flipped from anger to bewilderment.

"Dammit Seth! There is no what! You know _what_ I turned into last night. That's why you ran! I have no clue why you're back, but I want you to leave right now."

Seth shook his head, "I didn't…run, Dean."

Dean stood then, gesturing indigently with the Glock in the direction of the mess in near his garage.

"Then explain why my house is trashed and I couldn't find you when I woke up? Why I could only find wolf hair all over the place and my door all clawed up? Hmm?"

"D-Dean…what are you doing with that gun?" Seth switched subjects, asking in a voice as though he was speaking to a wild animal, but Dean could smell the other man's nervousness.

"You had to have gotten away somehow, couldn't smell your blood," he didn't bother answering the question, just carried on with his own deteriorating rant, "you got away…a-and then I…I-I killed Ben…b-because couldn't s-stop myself."

He was back on his knees again, tears like rivers down his face, voice broken, "C-Can't l-let that h-happen to y-you t-too…"

Arms instantly wrapped around him, pulling him into a warm body and enveloping him in an amalgam of scents that meant hardly anything to him singularly, but when combined, was purely Seth. He didn't fight the embrace, didn't fight the gun being carefully pried from his fingers, nor did he fight the sobs wracking his body. Just surrendered himself to those strong arms holding him close.

"Listen to me…" Seth spoke near his ear, voice coming out mistily, "everything's going to be okay. I know what the cure is now. We can cure you."

"C-Cure me?" Dean asked in a croak, "I-I'm already d-damned, don't ya s-see? Even i-if I'm cured…I-I'm s-still a…I-I'm still…a-a m-murderer."

Seth's arms tightened further before he pulled back, looking Dean in the eyes, "But you're not. You may have tried to eat me, but you didn't murder anyone last night."

Dean wanted to believe that, but he heard the news report, remembered how badly he wanted to tear Ben apart during his visit just hours prior to his friend's death. It couldn't just be some huge coincidence.

"I h-heard it on t-the news, S-Seth. H-He was killed…I k-killed him."

"No you didn't, you never even left the house. Please, hear me out okay?"

Though his mind didn't want to let him believe that this was the doings of something else other than him, Dean sniffed and nodded his head, finally giving Seth the floor.

"After the wolfsbane, after you changed…" Seth began explaining, "you tried like hell to get at me through that door the whole time. Then you just…stopped."

"Stopped?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Seth continued on, "when I opened the door I found you just lying there in your wolf form…like you were dying. Then right in my arms you changed back to…well you. I dressed and carried you to bed and you've been there all night."

"Y-You're sure? Absolutely certain?"

"One-hundred percent. I was up all night on my phone looking for answers, and you were out cold by my side the entire time."

The lead-like weight sitting on Dean's shoulders suddenly lessened, leaving him feeling weaker from the burden of carrying it. Even so, he felt more at ease.

"Y-You said something about a cure?" he asked tentatively as though any overt eagerness would shatter the only hope he had left.

Seth nodded, "I went for a jog this morning…just hoping it would change my outlook on things, and I came across this old woman. Turns out she was an old world fortuneteller who knew a whole lot about werewolves."

At this Dean turned skeptical, "How do ya k-know she wasn't just shittin' ya f-for your dough?"

"Because once I mentioned werewolves she took off like a shot, told me to get lost. Had to literally beg her to tell me. In the end I offered her a lot of money. 'Sides, we came to an agreement: she doesn't get a cent until we know her cure is foolproof. I'm sure she wouldn't have agreed to it if she was bullshitting."

"O-Okay…just assuming this old lady is tellin' the truth…" Dean shifted so he sat with his back against the wall, "How did she come about knowin' the cure?"

"Because," Seth said, "her uncle was bitten by one when she was a little girl living in Brezoi. She said his appearance and demeanor began to change. Fast hair growth with streaks of unnatural color, elongated nails and fangs, and glowing eyes. Heightened agitation around everyone except his wife, which often turned to aggression; sound familiar?"

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, "You didn't tell her my symptoms did you?"

"Of course not. Anyway she said they cured him. Also it's important to know that once bitten, a person would change into a wolf on the night of the full moon and change back in the morning twice. If you change a third time, transformation is permanent."

Letting all the information Seth told him absorb in, Dean thought, _'Maybe it's legit. Why the hell not?'_ "So what's the cure?"

"We find that wolf that bit you," Seth said, leveling his gaze with a determined brown-eyed stare, "and you kill it."

Another humorless chuckle escaped his lips. This was just great…

"Of course the cure would be like finding a needle-" Dean stopped himself short, his mouth hanging open. A sudden understanding just came upon him.

"What?" Seth questioned.

Without saying another word, Dean jumped up from his spot on the floor, stepped around Seth and began throwing on the first outfit he could get his hands on, his boyfriend's concerned and bewildered eyes on him the entire time. Only when he picked the Glock back up and stuffed it into the back waistband of his jeans did Seth also get to his feet.

"Dean, what is it?"

"Ben…"

Dean didn't stop to face him, but marched through his house, grabbing his leather jacket on the way out the front door.

Hot on his heels was Seth. "What about him?"

"He wasn't just killed," Dean elaborated as he started running down the street, Seth just able to keep up, "News said he was mauled, that his neighbors reported wolf howls," he finally looked at Seth, "Nevada's _never_ been known to have many wolves, much less around Vegas."

"Shit," Seth breathed heavily, "Ya think?

"Yup."

Three minutes and seven blocks later they came to a stop in front of Ben Kodlack's humble ranch-style house.

Seth was panting loudly and glistening with perspiration. Dean on the other hand, did not feel the Nevada heat even under his shirt and jacket, nor did he sweat the sprint he'd just undertaken. He immediately launched himself into examining the scene of his friend's death, relying foremost on his nose.

He could still smell Ben's blood in the air.

"C-Can you scent it?" Seth asked once he caught his breath.

Dean didn't answer right away. Instead he stalked the rusty scent to the spot he was sure Ben's shredded body had laid. Underneath the intensity of the blood, Dean could smell a myriad of other scents. It was hard to concentrate on just one, especially when he was now hardwired to focus on blood.

Mingled with the blood was the odor of Ben's body: sweat, beer breath, and entrails, hell he could even smell the undigested remains of Ben's last meal; enchiladas.

To keep from either throwing up or dropping to his knees to lick whatever was left of the blood from the ground, Dean brought his hand to his mouth and closed his teeth around it, hard.

Whether that act helped his concentration, he didn't know, but he pinpointed another smell. It was a faint scent, but nonetheless a recognizable one hiding amongst the stench of death and suburbia.

Dean released his hand and flexed his jaw, "Oh yeah…I can smell that one-eyed bastard. I'd never forget that smell."

Not waiting for Seth to respond or follow, he began to slowly and methodically trail the scent the beast left behind from Ben's front yard to the back.

"Is it still close?"

"Not in the vicinity," Dean sniffed loudly, not caring if he looked like the lunatic WWE claimed him to be, "the scent's fading, but the fucker might still be close enough."

Maybe if he moved quickly he could find it and stop it before it hunted down another innocent person.

"Dean, wait up!" Seth cried, jogging to keep up.

The further Dean went in his pursuit the more the scent grew stronger, even still it seemed that the beast had a lengthy head start. It could take the rest of the day into the night and they may not find it even then.

' _Screw it.'_

He'd track the monster that afflicted him down to the ends of the earth if that's what it took to cure him.

The scent weaved around houses, wafted down alleys ways, through the sagebrush and into the valley. In the middle of the blistering heat they traversed dry scrublands, stepping over countless sunburnt rocks and around prickly succulent plants.

It was when the sun was setting and they had reached the onset of the mountains of Sloan Canyon did Seth verbally protest the pursuit. "S-Stop…"

Dean paused mid step and turned at the labored sound of his lover's voice, his gaze finding Seth with his hands resting on his knees again though more doubled over than earlier. The shirt Seth wore appeared drenched in sweat and his shoulders were rapidly rising and falling with every heavy breath.

"W-We…I-I can't go on like t-this," Seth panted, " 'Sides…w-we gotta h-head across the country f-for Money in t-the Bank in t-the morning."

The instinct to go on hunting raged through Dean like a wild fire. He wanted, needed it badly. If he abandoned the trail now, he might not ever get another chance to eradicate his problem before the next full moon just a few short days away. If he didn't slay the beast while he had the chance, it would just take another short month – thanks to the wolfsbane for causing a premature transformation – before he too was stuck as a man-eating wolf forever.

But all it took from Dean was one look at the exhausted form of his boyfriend, one look into those pleading brown eyes, for him to reluctantly relent his search.

Seth's well being meant more to him than his own life.

"C'mere," Dean grunted in defeat. He turned so his back was to Seth and crouched forward with his hands behind him to act as platforms.

"W-What are you doing?" Seth sputtered.

Dean smirked to himself, practically hearing the blush creeping over his counterpart's face.

"Offering you a ride back to town."

"I d-don't need a piggyback, Dean."

" _I_ don't need you keelin' over. Oh and I don't need ya gettin' cold out here either," Dean straightened, slipping off his jacket to drape it over Seth's shoulders, "Now shut up and hop on, Princess."

Seth grumbled but obeyed and climbed onto his back. He easily handled his boyfriend's weight into a more comfortable position then commenced a in a brisk walk, taking the path from which they came. Strong arms clung around his neck while muscled thighs squeezed his waist, acting as though he'd vanish into thin hair if those limbs didn't hold on tight enough.

They traveled silently like that for well over an hour.

"Don't worry," came a low voice near his ear.

"I ain't worried," Dean retorted, "You're the one that's worried."

"Because you almost killed yourself after I thought I had lost you forever, you ass," Seth then slapped him up side the head hard enough to leave a little sting, "I better not find you like that again or I swear to the god I will beat some sense into you, ya got that?"

Dean's body slumped a little, not under the pressure of Seth's weight, but under the weight of what he had put him through. The thought of catching the man clinging to his back being the feature of a similar suicidal scene sent his mind reeling.

He had really fucked up, but had he known that he was redeemable he wouldn't have let it get that far.

Giving Seth's leg a squeeze in silent apology, Dean said, "Got it. You've got full permission to kick the living crap out of me if I try that again, which I won't."

"Then stop worrying…I can feel it all over you."

There was a moment when Dean's step faltered. _'How did he know?'_

Seth let out a long yawn then said, "I know what you're thinking…not gonna let it happen again…"

"Oh yeah? How you plan to do that?"

He really appreciated Seth's continued determination, but if he didn't find the beast again and kill it within two months time, he was finished. How could Seth continue to hang on to hope so easily?

"Mmm," Seth's voice was dreamy with sleep, "you smell good."

The soft steady puffs of air tickling Dean's neck told him that his lover was overcome with fatigue from the day. Seth had really pushed himself today, all for him.

Dean gave Seth's leg another squeeze and trekked on, promising to push himself just as hard to achieve this last chance that he was given, even if it seemed out of his reach.

He would grab a hold of that chance, hang on to it for dear life, and when he was finally cured, he would fully embrace a life with Seth by his side. Forever.

* * *

 _ **Let me know what you think, feed back is greatly appreciated!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Just wanted to say thanks to everyone that has read and given feedback. You guys are awesome!_**

I don't know what you've done to me  
But I know this much is true  
I wanna do bad things with you  
I wanna do real bad things with you

-Jace Everett, "I Wanna Do Bad Things With You"

* * *

"Wait a minute…say that again," Dean was sure he'd heard wrong. He was, after all, currently occupied with keeping his wolfen urges to a minimum while he and Seth were navigating through the airport towards security.

There were too many people – some stopping them for pictures or autographs, too many smells, and too many heartbeats to be heard all in a close proximity, pumping delicious rhythms that were akin to dinner bells to his ears. The fact that Dean's features returned to his normal human appearance did nothing to quell his heightened senses or his hunger to rip things to shreds.

The wolf was prowling just beneath the surface, just barely contained by the incompleteness of the moon. He couldn't unleash the wolf just yet, but the wolf could unhinge him, make him do despicable things if he wasn't on guard every single second.

He knew it would if given an inch; could feel it moving restlessly, rippling under his skin from time to time.

The only thing keeping him remotely grounded from gravitating into an all out flesh fest was Seth's firm but comforting grip on his hand and reassuring voice.

"We can keep you from transforming on the full moon by exhausting you," Seth repeated.

Dean couldn't cage the smirk that broke over his face, the wolf pushing against his skin in reaction to his response. "That's what I _thought_ you said…" his voice then deepened to a low rumble, "I know how you could _exhaust_ me."

The words were out before he could reign himself back into control. Seth's step faltered a little as he shot him a wide-eyed look, a lovely shade of pink coming to his cheeks.

A huge part of Dean was thoroughly encouraged by Seth's expression of shy consideration. That part of him was presently evoking a raging desire inside that threatened to consume him.

A desire to grab Seth by the lapels of his jacket and crash their lips together, to shove his lover into the nearest wall and show him exactly what his words were insinuating.

Dean wanted to fuck Seth right then and there in the middle of the airport. Wanted to claim the man next to him in every sense of the word so that everyone knew never to touch him.

Wanted to hear Seth moan and scream his name as he writhed under him, to feel Seth's heat engulfing his cock, to discover how the sinew in Seth's throat tasted on his tongue, to hear the sound of connection tissue snapping as he ripped a piece free with his teeth, blood spraying his mouth and face.

When he realized where his thoughts were straying Dean shut them down hard and abruptly, so much so his head physically hurt as a result. His jeans were painfully tight from his little day dream/nightmare and he was battling nausea and residual horniness in equal doses.

Seth was staring at him, breathing coming out a little fast and heavy. Dean could smell the lust rolling off him, but there was something else. Concern, those brown eyes were brimming with it.

A few long moments later Dean was able to calm his desires to a dull roar. The wolf didn't like the dismissal, claws thumping at his ribcage in anger, but it would just have to deal. His new roommate may try to get its way, but Dean was determined to fight it with everything in his power.

He wasn't going to endanger Seth, but he also wasn't going to let the beast within him force the other man away.

"I uh…I was just kidding by the way. Would be best to save the foolin' around 'til after I'm cured, right?" Dean licked his lips – did he feel the beginnings of fangs again? – and looked away, distancing himself just a little bit, "We're at security."

Blinking out of his own trance that seemed to only involve the two of them, Seth glanced around as if again becoming aware of their surroundings. "So we are. Let's go then."

The security check felt slower than it probably was, but Dean was forced to release Seth's hand. He tried to remain stoic, and perhaps he achieved that, on the outside at least. Inside, whenever he happened to glance at anyone, other travelers or TSA staff, the only thing he could see was the countless ways he could kill them nothing but nails and teeth.

Dean physically shook his head, his fists doing everything in their power not to clench and unclench in reflection of his apprehension.

" _I've been chasin' the big wheels  
All over Nashville  
Waitin' for my big break to come  
Livin' on ketchup soup, homemade  
Crackers and Kool Aid  
I'll be a star tomorrow, but today  
I'm a Nashville bum"_

He wasn't sure what started him singing Waylon Jennings under his breath, but at least it was enough to get his mind elsewhere, to relieve a miniscule amount of the tension building in him.

" _I look good in cowboy clothes  
And I sing through my nose  
Webb said "That's the way to get 'er done"  
I smoke good old PA  
Like the Opry stars, they say  
I'll be a star tomorrow, but today  
I'm a Nashville bum_"

Seth, hearing the softly breathed lyrics, looked over his shoulder at him, a small smile crooking his lips no matter how hard he fought it.

Seeing that little smile was like a punch in the gut in the best possible way. Dean wanted to keep it there on Seth's face forever, or at least as long as he could for the moment.

They were about at the end of the check anyway, so what the hell? Dean went on, belting out the tune as loud as he could get away with.

" _Well, a friend of a friend of mine  
Is a friend of art divines  
And he finally got me on the Opry show  
I walked out like a star  
Tripped and busted my guitar  
I'll be a star tomorrow, but today  
I'm a Nashville bum_"

"You're a horrible singer, ya know that?" Seth chortled, his hand playfully shoving at Dean's arm once they were free from security to look around and find their gate.

"If me being a horrible singer puts a beautiful smile like that on your face, then I'd take that over being an amazing singer any day."

Seth blushed, but shook his head.

"C'mon, you don't like it when I serenade you?" Dean asked, making sure his dimples were on full display.

That blush intensified and Dean just couldn't help himself.

He wrapped his arm around Seth's shoulder and began crooning near his ear, " _I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by  
Oh my my, I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by  
See now all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy_"

"You're going to be like this the whole way, aren't you?" Seth sighed his face still flushed pink.

"Yup~"

"38, 39, 40."

"Is this the last set?"

"What, ya tired, Dr. Wolfenstein?" Seth chuckled from his position standing at the sidelines of Dean's WOD, his own Workout of the Day finished.

Dean grimaced and carried on with his kettlebell swings, he was on forty-five reps. "No, just…Crossfit is nice and all, but your obsession with it…it kinda makes me wanna gag…"

Seth tsked him. "For your lip, I'm adding a _Murph_ to your _Filthy Fifty._ "

"Oh for the love of God…" Dean grunted, not missing a beat with his swings.

"Fifty. Alright walking lunges and then knees-to-elbows."

"Yeah, yeah, coach…by the way, I can count from here."

Dropping the kettlebell, Dean quickly moved onto the next exercise set. He just wanted to get it done and over with so he could leave the mildly crowded facility. Dean always favored less flashy workouts over fancy gyms, but since the wolf infected him, his hatred for them grew. Give him a good old-fashioned work out in the middle of mother nature and he was good.

The fact that Seth did these all the time without the benefit of werewolf super strength and stamina made Dean think he was nuts.

"Remind me…why we are doing this again?"

"To exhaust the wolf before the full moon," Seth explained, "The old woman said that the transformation takes lots of energy. If you don't have enough energy stored up in the days before the full moon…well in theory, you can't physically change. And the fact that you did all that running around yesterday without so much as breaking a sweat tells me that you've got a lot of energy to burn."

"Thanks for the lesson, coach."

Though Dean was loath to admit it, this high energy, full body workout was at least making him sweat, something that trailing the beast all day in the desert failed to do. Seth was smart in suggesting Crossfit.

"So did she tell you why the wolfsbane made me transform?" Dean continued his questioning while he finished up the walking lunges before moving on to pull up bar to begin the knees-to-elbows.

Seth nodded, "Like the full moon, it's a sort of source of power for the wolf. But unlike a real meal, wolfsbane is more like a sugar rush in that it can only sustain the wolf for a short time."

Letting out a hum, Dean said, "Makes sense."

"You've got the push press after these then the back extensions," Seth announced.

Dean was about to make a comment about Seth enjoying the show when a couple of people approached them, a guy and a girl. They exchanged a few words with Seth before the girl wandered over to the pull up bar where he was currently working out.

"How's it going?" she asked, "I'm a big fan."

Vaguely he could sense her eyes oogling his body without having even acknowledged her. He could just feel the weight of her gaze as it traveled along his body. But he paid her no heed, his focus trained mostly the handsome man chatting it up with his boyfriend.

"Just peachy, thanks," Dean replied absently, his upper lip curling back from his teeth at the same time he recognized the look that Seth was receiving from Prince Charming.

He was used to seeing it from female fans, like the one currently at his side, but Dean knew that look anywhere, could smell it. Prince Charming had the hots for Seth.

"How can I get abs like that?" Dean overheard P.C. ask.

The question prompted Seth to lift his shirt and look at his own stomach for a brief second; a very natural reaction, but one that P.C. took advantage of, eyes raking each individual ridge cut into Seth's skin.

"A LOT of hard work, ya know, lots of different core exercises."

Rationally, Dean knew he should let it slide, because he was certain that the fan wouldn't be dumb enough to try anything serious, and knowing Seth, he wouldn't encourage such behavior. Hell his lover probably didn't even realize he was getting checked out anyway.

But Dean wasn't always thinking rationally these days. He couldn't stand the sight of anyone rivaling him – especially a man who had looks that put his own easily to shame – for Seth's affections. It made the wolf come alive under his skin and it howled for blood.

"Can I get a picture with you?" said the girl.

Her breath hit Dean's ear the exact same moment he heard P.C. request his boyfriend give a demonstration on a good ab workout. Dean finally had enough of the both of them and jumped down from the pull up bar as loudly as he could. All eyes in the room seemed to fall on him.

"Ya know, I was considering that picture," he directed at the girl then stalked towards Prince Charming, "but it's kind of rude to bother people when they're trying to work out."

All it took for P.C. to squirm was Dean fixing him with a nasty scowl. Seth, seeming to understand the mood he was in, laid a placating hand on Dean's arm. The solid weight of it there, the calming, yet electrifying current flowing from Seth into him helped to bring his fury down a little.

Taking a deep breath Dean said, "So sorry, no pictures folks…" he then grabbed Seth's hand and made a beeline for the locker rooms.

"You don't need to be jealous over a fan, Dean," Seth broke the silence when they were out of earshot, "c'mon…hey, hey, we gotta finish your workou—"

Pressing the smaller man against the wall, Dean cut Seth off by grabbing him by his bun and planting a searing kiss on his lips.

Seth groaned and immediately pressed back with equal fervor. One hand carded through copper curls before tugging on them, the other hand splayed over the expanse of Dean's muscled back.

Dean shoved a leg between Seth's thighs, finding his arousal also coming to life. The smaller man sought the friction his leg provided, grinding himself upon it eagerly, the sounds coming out of his mouth becoming more desperate. Dean couldn't stop himself from dragging his blunt nails down the toned surface of his lover's stomach in order to hear more of those sounds.

His efforts were not in vain. Seth's moans heightened and he snagged Dean's lower lip between his teeth, enticingly nipping the plump flesh.

"I want you…" Dean growled against the other's lips.

The hand in Dean's hair slowly trailed down his collarbone, down his chest and stomach to come to rest over the bulge in his shorts, cupping it firmly. Dean bucked involuntarily into his hand.

Seth whispered, "Then take me."

A decidedly more animalistic growl tore from Dean's mouth and he threw some distance between them, though not much, his hands on either side of Seth's head kept him boxed in against the wall. The only thing that still touched him was his lover's warm panting breath. He felt his eyes burning and he could see his own glowing eyes reflected in the brown depths of Seth's.

"You're playing with fire, Seth" Dean rumbled, "I don't wanna see you get burned."

"You started this," Seth retorted. His hand rose and stroke Dean's cheek tenderly. "You won't hurt me."

Dean leaned into the touch momentarily, Seth's scent and caress eliciting a deep purring sound from his chest before he pulled away completely.

"C'mon…I have a work out to finish…"

That night at the arena Dean could not sit still as Money in the Bank got under way. He tried to focus on watching the matches preceding his ladder match while waiting, yet the wolf inside of him was coiled too tightly, feeding off his anticipation.

"This is a big mistake," he finally said after a lengthy time of nothing but the sound of the television filling the air.

Seth's eyes flickered over from the screen of the flatscreen, observed him pace for a few moments longer, then said, "It isn't."

"What if it is?" Dean persisted, coming to a stop a few feet from where Seth was sitting in a chair. "What if I fuck up this time, hell, in front of all those people? W-What if I'm can't handle the responsibility? Especially with me like this…"

Just thirty minutes ago Vince McMahon himself asked for Dean and dropped the news that not only was Dean indeed going to win the brief case, but to cash it in on Seth for the title that very same night.

For years and years Dean toiled away in the indies, FCW, and through the ranks of WWE with the goal of getting his hands on the top prize. There was little else that he wanted more in the world than to be called WWE World Champion.

His dreams were coming true in a matter of an hour, but all he could think about was the risk of losing control during his matches and hurting the people in this business that he considered his friends.

The doubts in his mind were affecting him so much that he was sure he would throw up soon.

He should just turn down the title reign and hope that it didn't piss Vince off enough to never give him another shot again.

A tumultuous tremor rippled through Dean as Seth stood and encompassed him in a comforting embrace.

"You won't and you can," he said, soothing Dean's scalp with reassuring fingers.

Dean trembled again. He buried his face in Seth's shoulder with a deep sigh. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you, Dean Ambrose." Seth shifted, pushing their foreheads together, their noses brushing, his fingers drawing circles on Dean's lower back. "You've been through so much…but you end up handling anything that comes your way. You're ready for this."

Overcome with emotion that was purely human in nature, Dean closed the distance and pressed his lips longingly to Seth's.

They slowly broke away from the kiss and Dean murmured softly against Seth's mouth, "I love you."

"I love you too, Dean."

Time crawled on and before long the Money in the Bank ladder match was beginning. Dean left Seth's side to go stand at the Gorilla Position with the other guys in the match he would be working with, repeating his boyfriend's encouragements in his head like a mantra, a desperate prayer.

Everything went fine as he stretched and waited for his turn to make an entrance. When his turn came, he bit the bullet and walked swiftly down to the ring, letting his mind switch off from all else but the match.

He entered the ring and planted his feet in the middle of it, taking in the sounds of the crowd and letting it drown out his worries. He felt a mild stirring within him as he stared down the six other men surrounding him, but managed to shove it aside as the bell rung.

Dean's mind was completely in the zone until he took some strikes from Kevin at ringside.

The roots of his hair burned white hot and somewhere between his ears he heard it. The wolf.

" _ **Are you just going to take that? Why don't you let me help you out?"**_

He had felt the wild urges and emotions of the being inside him, but never before had the wolf spoken to him. The shock of it landed Dean on his ass beside the barricade and he sat there for a while, the match suddenly far away, seen through goggled eyes, heard through cotton lined ears.

' _Leave me alone!'_ Dean screamed internally.

" _ **Poor thing…"**_ the wolf crooned. It talked in a deep feral voice, and yet it still had the ability to speak with honeyed words. _**"Just accept that you like being this way, you get off on the power to end anyone you wish. Now be a good boy and give in."**_

' _Fuck you…_ '

The fire in his scalp intensified and Dean sat horrified as a few strands of his bangs turned white before his eyes.

" _ **Don't you see? It doesn't matter whether you give in or not, soon we'll be sharing this body forever."**_

The wolf then seemed to retreat to the fringes and the matched returned to the forefront of his senses.

Dean gasped for air though he wasn't particularly winded and he rose shakily to his feet. The urge to flee the arena surged through his body, but his feet remained rooted to the floor.

' " _You've been through so much…but you end up handling anything that comes your way. You're ready for this." '_

With Seth's words renewed in his head, Dean took hesitant steps back towards the ring. The closer he got to the action inside the ring the more his instincts to perform kicked back in and he had to rejoin the fray.

He wasn't going to run away from this.

For the most part the wolf sat idly by, doing nothing besides lending him its strength and stamina (he could hardly feel any of the blows he took, from fists, ladder, or suplex), but Dean could feel the wolf watching, waiting for any opportunity to overtake him.

But every now and then it would send him little messages.

" _ **Little pig, little pig…let me out, let me out."**_

And Dean was forced to sit outside of the ring until he fought the wolf back and became calm again. It felt like a never ending back and forth between them, an exhausting tug-of-war over his body.

Dean was never so relieved for the climax of a match to happen.

It was just him and Kevin at the end, jockeying for position to grab a hold of a briefcase that Dean already knew was awarded to him.

Grabbing Kevin's arm through the rungs of the ladder, Dean pulled and the bigger man followed along with his plan and sold it, throwing himself against the ladder with each tug.

" _ **This isn't fun at all…"**_ said the wolf after a lengthy absence.

A wave of energy traveled up Dean's arm, rippling his muscles with power. Before Dean could stop himself, he yanked once more and Kevin's side and temple bounced off the metal so hard that the entire ring shuddered.

Mortification filled Dean and he quickly released Kevin before more damage could be done.

The rotund man seemed more than a bit out of it as he slipped off the ladder, falling with a sickening thud onto a second ladder stuck horizontally between the rungs of the ladder which Dean was perched and the turnbuckle.

All while this took place the wolf's joyous cackles echoed in Dean's head.

' _Is he dead?'_

Dean peered warily over the top of the ladder.

Though he was probably knocked out cold, Kevin's barrel chest was still rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

' _Thank you Crossfit Jesus...'_

He released the breath he'd been holding and turned his attention to putting this match to an end. His hands were shaky from all the effort he exuded to keep the wolf at bay, but after some fumbling, the briefcase came loose from its bonds.

The roar of the crowd in the arena was near deafening, but Dean couldn't find it in himself to share in their celebration.

Many times he'd imagined himself with that briefcase, acting like a giddy little fuck like Seth had when he won it. Sure all sorts of emotions were running through him at breakneck speed, but all he could do was stand there at the top of the ladder like a dope.

Over the din of the audience and his indiscernible feelings he heard the wolf whisper. _**"Enjoy it while it lasts…"**_

"You looked a little out of it out there," Seth said as when he found him backstage. The younger man was getting ready for his and Roman's match.

Dean sat his briefcase down on a production crate then hopped up on it. "He was talking to me, Seth…"

Two dark eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

"The wolf…" Dean answered, not caring that smoking was not allowed in the arena and lit up a cigarette. He leaned his head back, letting the smoke drift up towards the ceiling. "He was trying to take over…kind of did, at the end."

He felt a hand rest on his knee, squeezing it gently.

"Hey, you did good out there, all things considering."

Taking another drag, he said, "That match was nothing like how I envisioned it. Winning this briefcase was supposed to be something great…"

"But you made it work and no one got badly hurt." the hand on his thigh traveled up his body until it reached his face, fingers cradling the base of his skull while the palm and thumb cupped his cheek, lightly compelling his head from its upward tilt. "Look at me, Dean."

He acquiesced and lowered his gaze to meet his lover's.

Seth said nothing, just looked up at him with those irresistible brown eyes brimming with determination, Then he jumped up on the production crate and pulled on Dean so that they were leaning close.

They stayed like that, soaking up each other's company in silence until it was time for Seth to leave for Gorilla.

"See ya out there," Seth said, giving his knee a final squeeze and a small smile before leaping off the crate.

Dean watched him wordlessly until he was gone. He then trained his eyes on the television to watch the main event, finishing his cigarette.

Time seems to slow down and speed up throughout the time he sat there alone in his own head with his newly won briefcase as his only company.

He looked down at it. Instead of a golden ticket it seemed more like a ball and chain, fettering him to a destiny he wanted with all his heart, yet felt certain he would screw up somehow.

It was always in his cards.

The call of a production member broke him from his thoughts.

"You're up, Dean."

Climbing down from the crate, Dean checked the tape around his fists. He cracked his knuckles, popped his fingers, and then took hold of the handle of his briefcase.

"Whatever, wolf. Soon I'm evicting your ass."

* * *

 _ **Songs featured: "Nashville Bum" by Waylon Jennings, "Ice Cream Man" by Van Halen.**_  
 _ **WOD is an acronym for "Work out of the Day" at Crossfit. "The Murph" and "The Filthy Fifty" are the names of two brutal Crossfit workouts.  
I watched Dean's MITB match and noticed he spent a lot of time outside of the ring sitting there, so I fed off that when writing. Hope everyone enjoys and I'd LOVE some feedback~**_


	7. Chapter 7

The wolf was noticeably absent when Dean took his position just outside the arena where he could swoop down from the crowd and "sneak" up on Seth.

He was not sure if the wolf had lost steam from making itself known after the grueling work out he undertook earlier in the day, or if the parasite was just all talk. He didn't much care as long as it stayed out of his head and out of his way.

Keen ears picked the resounding thump of Seth sending Roman's body into the mat with The Pedigree followed by a trifecta of mat slaps; the one, two, three, echoed by the fans. Dean opened the arena door, using his animal stealth to slip down towards the ring unnoticed by the commotion.

Seth was soaking in his short-lived scripted victory and so was the crowd.

Before his music hit, cuing him to conduct his ambush and consequential cash-in, Dean paused and ducked down unseen. He wanted to watch Seth and his infectious energy for a few moments longer.

The theme music changed and his lover faced the ramp, feigning that he was expected him to make an entrance from the stage in effort to get the fans to believe it too.

This was it.

Dean darted from his hiding placed and jumped the barricade. Sliding quickly into the ring behind Seth, he barely heard the roar of the crowd as he concentrated on lifting the briefcase to make his strike.

" _ **Bash in his brains!"**_ the wolf howled manically.

Seth turned around, just in time to see him coming.

But it was too late to stop it. His arms were already caught in an unyielding rapid motion aimed directly at Seth's skull.

' _NO!'_

Dean maneuvered his body in his forward momentum so that all of him crashed into the smaller man that way Seth failed to take the full brunt of the brutal blow. Even so, Seth crashed to a heap on the mat like he had been hit by a freight train.

He was motionless and it was uncertain if it was because he was playing things up or if he was really in trouble.

No matter how much Dean wanted to break keyfabe to check on his on-screen enemy, he was already in front of thousands of people and countless more watching at home. All he could do was play out his cash-in so he could get in close to Seth and subtly assess his condition.

Dean exited the ring; tendons standing out in his neck from stress and emotion, he demanded the ref ring the bell.

Thankfully, as the ref went to Lillian so she could announce the new match, he turned to see Seth stirring in the ring. Dean's heart gave a little jump of solace.

But he had to be sure.

Seth began to crawl sluggishly across the mat as he reentered the ropes, the continued movement an increasingly relieving sign. Slowly his lover rose on his hands and knees before finally making it to his feet, albeit wobbly.

Everything was okay.

The sliver of hope in Dean's chest grew until his blood thumped not with bloodlust, but an immense elation.

Grabbing Seth and hooking his arms, he gave his counterpart a few moments to process what was happening, then with more controlled fluidity, dropped Seth's head harmlessly onto the mat with Dirty Deeds for the pin.

Over ten years of hard work suddenly culminated and compressed itself into one moment.

Dean remembered very little after the bell rang. Little except snatching the belt from the ref's hands – claiming it like he always imagined he would, his bottled excitement from the earlier ladder match pouring forth like a maelstrom.

Dean Ambrose, WWE World Champion. Some would have never thought he would reach the top of the mountain, himself included at times.

It was his time now.

His time to build his legacy in this business, to make way for the future dreamers; his time to work on effectively shutting up the naysayers that had dogged him since the indies, saying that he wasn't good enough or couldn't hack it in WWE or as champion.

Hell he was off to a good start, because he shut that wolf up.

Time didn't begin to slow down again until he'd walked through the curtain backstage and was met with the many congratulatory faces of his co-workers, Roman and Seth at the forefront.

Seth immediately pulled him into a tight embrace. On the other hand Roman stood a little more stoic, but he surprised him by joining in on a Shield group hug.

At first Dean stiffened, suddenly unsure if he deserved everything he was receiving.

"I-I'm sorry for how I've been acting, Ro."

"You treat me and Seth to some beers and all will be forgiven."

Letting out a chuckle, Dean returned the gesture and encircled his two best friends affectionately with both arms. "Sounds like a plan."

"I always knew you had it in you," Seth said, "Never hadda doubt."

"This day's been a long time comin'," Roman agreed.

Dean's heart soared pleasantly in his chest, jet-powered by emotions he could and could not name.

"Thank you, guys, both of you."

"Don't get all mushy now, Ambrose," Roman joked, patting him good-naturedly on the back.

Nodding, Dean sniffed back the threatening tears and released his brothers, moving beyond them to receive the kind words and hugs from the rest of his peers.

 **Snap**

Dean jumped at the blaring automated click that roused him from a sound sleep. The next thing he knew Seth's laughter was filling his ears and he found himself tangled up in bed sheets, cuddling his championship to his chest and his head pounding with an awful hangover.

Seth, the chipper morning person that he was, was already dressed, standing next to the bed with his phone.

"This is so going on Twitter."

"Don't you dare," Dean growled tiredly.

"But you look so cute, Champ," Seth chuckled teasingly, "Fine, fine, I'll just keep this for my private collection." He winked.

"You better," Dean warned without any heat, then groaned, "Damn what happened last night?"

After the downing over a few shots of Jack Daniels and probably a dozen bottles of beer, last night at the bar got really fuzzy, really quick. He recalled that Seth only partook in one beer, saying that he needed to keep sober for his role of designated driver.

"Well first you and Roman were pretty much inseparable, like you guys were two peas in a pod again. You then started apologizing over and over again, saying that you were such a dick because you got bitten by a werewolf."

Dean's eyes widened nervously, "Shit, I told him?"

"Don't worry, he was about as plastered as you were when you told him," Seth said, hands raised in placation, "Anyways, he said that he missed your face and your singing, so you decided to take over the karaoke stage and started singing the most horrible rendition of _Rocky Mountain Way_ I've ever heard. You held your own freakin' concert, man."

"Shut up, my singing's great," he went to sit up in bed, but his throbbing head sent him flat on his back again, "Ugh…I guess being a werewolf doesn't help with hangovers…you gotta painkiller or something?"

Seth reached into his belongings and produced a bottle of pills. Dean took two tablets and swallowed them dry.

"So," Seth went on, "I ended up having to wrangle your rowdy asses back into the car before you drank yourselves into a coma, helped Roman to his hotel, then hauled your heavy ass in here."

"You then started getting all touchy-feely with me before stripping buck ass naked, strapped that title around your waist, saying, " _I fuck like a champ too."_ You pulled me down into bed with you, but once your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light."

Dean peered under the blankets to discover he was indeed naked. He sighed and to hide his blush, curled up with his title pressed against his face.

 _His_ title. _His_ WWE World Championship.

Dean's embarrassment gave way to a giddy smile as he examined its gold, diamond-encrusted beauty then he pressed a kiss to the lavishly decorated double W.

His little personal celebration was cut short when Seth pulled the blankets off his body, the cool air making him hiss in protest.

"C'mon, get ready. We're hitting the gym."

"Fuck off…" Dean groaned and flipped over onto his stomach, "my head's still killin' me."

All he received for his evasion was a stinging slap to his bare ass.

"Ow! God dammit! Let me sleep another hour, at least."

"Get up, Champ," Seth urged, "the full moon's tonight and I'm not talking about your ass."

Dean looked over his shoulder at his lover, his face becoming serious, "It's tonight?"

Seth nodded grimly, "That and we have RAW. We don't need you wolfing out on us on worldwide television."

"Alright, alright," Dean said, ignoring his still sensitive head and climbing out of bed.

Dean looked at himself in the mirror on the dresser as he pulled on some clothes. Never before had his human form looked so wild.

Though only one streak of white tainted his head of hair, those curls framed a decidedly sharper face covered in rugged stubble that wasn't there hours ago. Long nails adorned his fingers and now two pairs of fangs on each jaw were tapered to deadly points, his eyes burning embers of blue in his sockets.

Seth surely noticed such drastic changes before he did, but he said not a word about them.

About twenty minutes later they were in another gym, one of which thankfully provided them a private work out room. It even had its own ring. It wasn't a Crossfit, but it had everything they needed for Seth to make Dean perform some more of those intensive WODs with him.

Of course Seth called it quits well before him, but Dean was feeling his energy waning as well.

He had been disallowed from consuming anything besides water since they left Vegas. Seth had said that it was to help the process of exhausting his super stamina down so he wouldn't shift into a wolf again. Dean wanted nothing more than to keep from shifting, but the way his hunger – for sustenance as well as bloodshed – was gnawing at him, this was bordering on torture.

After finishing two of the most brutal of Crossfit's workouts, The Murph and The Seven, Dean found himself on the floor for a much-needed breather.

Seth let him rest for a few minutes before dragging him back to his feet.

"You're killin' me, man," Dean protested, but got up anyway, "plus my stomach's about to burst out of me in search of food."

Seth was already in the middle of the ring, fully recovered and beckoning him in.

"C'mon Champ, you can handle a little warm up in the ring, unless you want me to take my title back tonight. "

Dean propelled himself under the bottom rope and into the ring like a shot. "You've got a fat chance in hell, Rollins."

"That's what I'm talkin' about, baby," Seth grinned.

They locked up in the middle of the ring, the spark between them lighting into a raging fire despite it only being a practice session.

It was Dean who made the first move, knocking Seth's arm from around his shoulder and wrenching his arm, he then maneuvered himself so that he was behind Seth. He banded his arms around the smaller man, but Seth was quick to fight him from locking his fingers together.

They jockeyed for the dominant position for a few more moments before Seth weaseled himself out of the corner Dean had him in, putting some distance between them so he could assess the situation.

"Still trying to predict me?" Dean smirked as he approached, putting out one hand as an invitation to Seth to lock fingers.

Seth said not a word but obliged the gesture, then they locked fingers with their free hands after some cautious hesitation on Seth's part. Kicking one hand free of Seth's, Dean twisted around while keeping hold of his partner's other hand, wrenching it behind Seth's head.

In quick succession Seth twisted back so they were face-to-face, and taking hold of Dean's opposite arm, wrenched him into a chicken wing. Seth leaned low into the hold to avoid a potential elbow swinging his way. Hooking the other man's head under his free arm, Dean began wrenching Seth's neck in order to get released from the hold.

He could have easily freed himself, but he didn't want to rely on the wolf – especially with the potential to hurt Seth clearly within his power – because it wouldn't be fun that way. So he dialed back his strength as much as he could.

Finally Dean got his arm loose and in return applied the chicken wing on Seth briefly before changing tactics by swiftly taking him down to the mat, grounding him with a side-headlock.

Seth's arm scrabbled for purchase until it wrapped around Dean's face. The brunet's other arm hooked him around one of his legs and suddenly he was flipped into a pinning predicament.

Though there was no one around to count a pin fall, Dean kicked out quickly before the three-second mark and they both separated again.

Locking up again, Dean wasted no time in bringing Seth down onto his stomach on the canvas. He pulled one bronzed arm into a modified arm bar while applying pressure with his elbow into the other's shoulder.

"You give up, Princess?" he taunted into Seth's ear.

"Not on your life," came the answer.

Dean smirked, keeping hold of the maneuver a bit longer before allowing Seth to wrangle out of it. He then performed an arm wrench into a standing side-headlock. Seth flipped him to the ground with a hip toss.

Dean jumped up and bounced off the ropes, shoulder tackling him to the ground. Racing to the opposite set of ropes, Dean attempted the same move, but Seth turned onto his stomach, forcing Dean to skip over him. He jumped back to his feet as Dean rebounded back once more, throwing out his forearm.

Ducking under the strike, Dean foresaw Seth's standing dropkick and clung to the ropes. Seth's feet met nothing but air, but he had the wherewithal to land on his feet with cat-like grace. As Dean came at him again, he quickly shot up into another dropkick. This time it hit home and Dean was sent onto his back on the mat.

Seth tried for another quick pin, which he immediately kicked out of. Not waiting for him to catch a breath, Seth was on him again, applying an arm bar of his own.

"What about you, Dr. Wolfenstein?"

Dean powered out of the submission then hit a suplex. With Seth back on the ground, he took control again, twisting the other's legs into a figure-four. His counterpart writhed, but managed to haul himself and Dean's weight so his hand reached the ropes.

He dragged Seth back to the center of the ring, flipped him onto his stomach, and planting the weight of his torso on Seth's back, cinched in a front facelock. Seth wormed his way out of it and onto his back. Dean followed quickly and straddled Seth's waist.

A flash of recognition gleamed in Seth's eyes as his hands were pinned above his head.

Dean loomed over his lover with all his weight, a wolfish smirk overtaking his face. The wolf inside him stirred to life along with his mounting lust.

Seth did nothing more but moisten his lips, an alluring peek of his tongue. Drawn to that simple but no less erotic act, Dean swooped in and claimed the other man's lips.

Between insistent kisses which Seth whole heartedly reciprocated, he counted, "One…two…three…"

"Mmm…you cheated…"

"That hardly sounds like a complaint."

Seth's hips bucked. "Shut up and keep kissing me."

A growl rumbled deep in Dean's throat. "I'm about to do a whole lot more if you keep _that_ up."

"I really wish you would," Seth challenged breathlessly, boldly slipping his hand up and under Dean's loose workout shirt, fingers purposely trailing through the chest hair he found before teasing a nipple with a brush of his thumb.

Something inside of Dean took over and he lost all reason except claiming the man beneath him, reducing him to a rutting beast.

"Fuck…" Seth panted, hooking one leg around Dean's hip.

Their lips collided, all tongue and teeth and no finesse to be seen. Shoving the other's shirt up to this collarbone, Dean drug his lengthening nails down the toned torso he revealed. Seth moaned into his mouth, his body writhing. Dean tore his lips away to kiss, lick, and nip along the path his nails had raked, relishing the sight of the thin red lines slowly rising to the surface of Seth's flushed skin.

Lips reaching the hem of Seth's shorts, he wasted no time in pulling them down those bronze hips. He didn't need to see his lover's hardening length as evidence of how much he was desired; he could smell Seth's arousal. Even so, he wanted to see that beautiful, wanton body exposed to his gaze.

So much smooth, exotically toned skin stretched tautly over hard planes of muscle, twitched with excitement. Excitement caused at his hands. Dean's mouth watered at the sight and he had not even gotten Seth completely threadbare yet.

The gnawing in Dean's middle returned full force as he stretched himself over Seth again, fueled by the image of fucking him into the mat. Seth, an almost timid blush dusting his face, tugged at the hem of his shirt then with his aid pulled it up and over his head.

Dean lost whatever sense he had remaining and ducked his head, devouring Seth's neck with hot kisses.

" _ **Yes…that's it. Then after we fuck him, we'll devour his tender flesh,"**_ encouraged the wolf.

Dean growled audibly in agreement.

Through his haze of desire and hunger, a sound that wasn't contained within the heat of the room they occupied permeated his ears, a reverberation of clacks and chatter.

The veil of delirious hunger that was clouding his judgment suddenly released him and Dean abruptly jumped off of his lover.

"Dean," Seth called in surprise, "What is it?"

He didn't answer as he started to pace the ring, feeling equal parts sexually frustrated and immensely disgusted at what he'd just considered.

Seth straightened his clothes ponderingly then climbed to his feet, taking cautious steps towards him.

"Dean?"

The door opened deafeningly and two men stepped over the threshold.

"Oh, sorry," one of them said when he spotted them, "We didn't know anyone was in here."

Stooping to retrieve his shirt, Dean muttered lowly so only Seth could hear him, "Time to head to the arena…"

As soon as they made it to their hotel room, Dean collapsed exhaustedly on the plush bed. Though he didn't have a match that night, he felt like he'd been fighting a weekend long match.

In essence he had, between no food in his stomach, the punishing workout regiments Seth put him through, Money in the Bank, and the little sleep he'd gotten the night before, Dean was running on fumes.

And yet he wasn't in the right state of mind to let sleep overtake him, thoughts about that day running wild in his brain.

Despite his temporary loss of control at the gym, RAW went swimmingly, excitement over having the title renewing his enthusiasm and silencing the wolf, allowing him to plant both Roman and Seth with Dirty Deeds without one homicidal thought infecting his brain like a tapeworm.

But there was a subject of more importance keeping him awake.

The draft.

It had been looming over everyone in the WWE for some time now, and while he welcomed it at first for he saw it as a prime opportunity for the business to shake things up, after receiving his bite, his curse, he now thought of it as a slow painful walk towards the gallows hill.

He didn't want to give such a thought power over him, but something was telling him that he was going to be parted from Seth.

The brand split, coupled with that and the fact that he had yet to cure himself, made the situation seem all the more dire.

How would he keep his shit together without Seth there to ground him?

"Hey, Champ," Seth called from foot of the bed and Dean cracked his eyes open, "throwin' in the towel already?"

"Yup…" Dean closed his eyes again, "I'm so tired I can barely move my pinky."

"Perhaps I could still persuade you take part in one last exercise, just to be certain you won't shift."

"Oh yeah?" Dean murmured, sleepiness finally seeping into his bones, "How you plan to do that?"

The unexpected addition of Seth's weight settling astride his hips sparked an immediate flame low in Dean's belly, quickly bringing him back to a state of full awareness like the crash of a wave upon him.

"What are you doing?" he rasped.

Seth loomed over him, lips hovering just centimeters above his. "Finishing what you started earlier," he said, grinding their hips together for emphasis.

"T-That might be a mistake," Dean said, though his hands seemed to dismiss his objection in favor of resting his hands on Seth's hips, "The wolf's been filling my head with ways to seduce and then eat you. Lust and hunger…they're like one in the same…I almost can't tell the difference anymore…I-I could have torn your throat out back there…do you like…get off on me potentially killing you?"

"No," Seth countered with a peck to his lips, "I just know that you won't."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as he watched Seth slowly shimmy down his body until the other's face was level with the growing erection in his jeans. This was a battle he was quickly losing, and at this point he was starting not to give a shit.

..:..

Once he was drained of everything he could give, Dean collapsed boneless upon Seth's equally limp body. Dean wasn't sure how long they lay like that, panting as though their oxygen had been stolen from them, until the realization of what he'd done dawned on him.

"Shit!" Dean said to himself, panic filling him.

He quickly rolled off of Seth and pulled him to his side where he could examine his lover's shoulder. Seth winced, but relief overshadowed concern when Dean's keen eyes found the bite. A clear, deep imprint of his teeth blemished Seth's smooth flesh, but somehow he'd held back in his frenzied zeal, keeping his fangs from breaking the skin.

It looked like it ached and it would probably bruise up badly, but at least he hadn't cursed his own boyfriend.

Dean wrapped Seth up in his arms, his tongue and lips lazily soothing the mark.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, though part of him wasn't so apologetic at being as possessive he was.

"S'not that bad…" came a tired chuckle.

Dean allowed a sleepy smile to cross his lips. His Seth was tough.

His Seth.

Dean buried his face in the nape of Seth's neck, inhaling the other's scent mingled with that of sated passion.

"Love you," Seth mumbled.

"Mmmm," Dean inched closer to press a kiss to his lover's temple, "Love you, too."

They didn't try to get more comfortable as their bodies refused to budge much. Dean simply pulled Seth's back as close to his front as he possibly could without melding their bodies together and closed his eyes.

"…Mine…" he murmured, thinking Seth had already drifted off.

"Yours as long as you're mine." came a tired, but confident response.

Dean chuckled quietly, his breath ruffling Seth's hair.

"I'm all yours. Always have been, always will be."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Since this is the last chapter, I decided to go ahead and update before Christmas. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks to all that have stuck with it~**_

" _I feel my blood boil_  
 _I feel my spine coil_  
 _My hair is ripping_  
 _My mind is tripping_  
 _I am a monster_  
 _Can I come over?_  
 _Some kind of demon_  
 _To get you screaming_ "  
-Rob Zombie, "Werewolf, Baby"

* * *

The next morning Dean awoke to discover that he had stayed put in his little love nest with Seth the entirety of the night. Despite waking up quite ravenous, he hadn't shifted into an animal at all.

In fact the wolfish features that had crept up on him yesterday were nothing but a memory as his body had reverted back to its usual human appearance once the full moon began waning from its highest peak. The only lingering affects Dean noticed were his still heightened senses.

At least his hunger didn't hold the temptation to consume human flesh.

Seth shifted in his arms and caressed his face, a small smile tugging his lips.

"How ya feelin'?" he asked groggily.

Dean's stomach answered for him and rather loudly much to his chagrin.

Seth chortled at that, "Sounds like you need a feast. Whatdya want? Room service, take out?"

"How about just a few dozen half pound Double Decker cheeseburgers from Big Boy's?"

The other man made a face. "But those are so greasy and fatte—"

"They are greasy and fucking delicious," Dean cut in emphatically like a grammar Nazi detecting improper word usage.

Seth gave him another look, but all it took was Dean flashing his ace in the hole – his dimples – and fifteen minutes later he was happily wolfing down one cheeseburger after the other.

With nourishment in his body and his werewolf clock set back roughly a month Dean felt more like his old self with a new lease on life. He was Champion and he finally had Seth.

Dean felt like he could fight off his change for however long it took for him to track down his maker and cure himself. He felt like he could take on the world.

"You're disgusting," Seth said absently while trying to focus on his decidedly healthier turkey club sandwich and not on Dean's very audible and visual munching.

"You love it," Dean countered around a mouthful of food, sending him a flirty wink.

Seth snorted and rolled his eyes in an attempt to play coy; nevertheless, they ended up having morning tumble amongst the bed sheets.

Before the day was over they had taken on another three rounds; once in the back of their rental car, once in an empty room they stole into before they were due to make an appearance on SmackDown, and once outside in the secluded shadows of the arena.

In place of the wolf's appetite for destruction came an insatiable thirst for sex. Dean felt like a horny teenager, hardly able to keep his hands off of Seth; not that either one of them were complaining.

For days Dean forgot all about finding the wolf that made him in favor of enjoying his run as champion and worshipping Seth's body every chance he could get, basking in the afterglow of their near constant lovemaking.

A week later his first wake up call came knocking.

Dean wasn't sure just what roused him out of a sound sleep in the middle of the night while Seth drove the rental car to their next destination. It could have been anything. He had glanced around him briefly before hunkering down to finish his snooze.

His nose twitched as he drifted back to the edges of slumber.

A blue coal of light glowed in the darkness behind his eyelids.

" _ **He's coming…"**_

Growling, Dean frantically lurched forward in his seat and nearly ripped the armrests off in the process.

"Jesus," Seth flinched, "You alright?"

"Stop the car."

"I can't, it's the freeway."

"I said stop the damn car!" Dean yelled.

Seth glanced from him to the road and back again, licking his lips nervously.

"Do it," Dean said, his words no less demanding despite the lowering of his voice.

Giving in, Seth slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Dean barreled out of the car door and stood at the fringes of the woods along side road, staring into their inky blackness. Deep beyond the sound of traffic and the chatter of nocturnal animals, deep within the trees and foliage thick undergrowth, he caught movement.

"What is it?" Seth asked tentatively.

"I can see him…" Dean rumbled throatily, lips curling back from his teeth as he kept his attention trained on the one eye watching them from the forest, "he's been hunting me, probably since before Vegas…"

"You can see him?" Seth took a half step back. "W-Why would he do that?"

"Dunno…but I'm going to kill him…"

He got one foot forward before Seth was pulling on his arm.

"Wait, we don't have a plan."

Dean shrugged him off. "I don't need one. I'll rip him apart with my bare hands."

Once again Seth blocked his advance. "You're stronger now, I get that… but we don't know if you'll have a chance against it head on even with your super strength. Let's pull back and form a plan of attack, at least get you a weapon or something."

"I can't just fucking leave now that he's right in front of me!"

"You said that he's hunting you?" Seth reasoned coaxingly, "Let him come to you…we'll trap him somehow and kill him."

Dean's features became a snarl and he exhaled slowly through his nose. He flicked his gaze from the brunet to that single coal blue orb burning in the distance. Seth had won again.

"Fine," he answered curtly.

Cautiously they both retreated back to the rental.

The next day they learned that someone else had fallen victim to the beast, a little girl this time.

Dean felt sick to his stomach. This happened because of them and their inability to act on the opportunity set before them.

"Are you happy now?" he snapped, then instantly felt his heart constrict with regret at the look on Seth's face.

His face was contorted with shame and anguish.

Dean wrapped him up in his arms, rocking him back and forth. "I'm sorry," He whispered soothingly, "I-I just…I just hate having all this innocent blood on my hands without having even killed anyone."

"No…I…I was the one that stopped you," Seth sniffed, leaning his head on his shoulder.

"Don't…" he shook his head, "don't do that to yourself…it'll eat you alive…"

Seth sighed heavily, grasping onto the front of Dean's shirt. "Whatta we gonna do?"

As Dean continued to hold his lover and he tried to brainstorm something, anything, but all his previous bravado aside, he truly had no idea how to take that thing down. Did it have any weak points? If so, where were they? He had absolutely no idea.

He sighed and looked down at the top of the Seth's head, lips protectively kissing the brunette's crown.

Waiting until Seth fell asleep at the hotel Dean slipped out for a stroll, careful to not let his animal instincts take over too much this time.

The beast kept its distance on this night for he couldn't sense hide or hair of it anywhere during his time out. The only recognizable scent he ran into was Bray Wyatt as he made his way down the long hall back to the room he shared with Seth.

Giving the enigmatic man a quick nod, Dean intended to keep it at that.

"That rougarou gettin' in your head, Dean?"

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned around, regarding Bray curiously.

"Rooga-what?"

"Rougarou," Bray repeated, "Ya know, werewolf?"

The blood in Dean's veins turned cold and the wolf inside of him raised its hackles. He could do nothing but stare at the other man for several seconds.

"How did you…?" he could hardly form a question.

"I overheard you at the bar with your friends. Plus you've been kind of…changin' sporadically." Bray pointed towards the white streaks that were slowly reappearing in his hair again, "You've already survived one full moon, I see."

"I've kind of…already changed once…" Dean muttered, shoving the wolf out of his mind. He couldn't help feeling incredibly awkward to be discussing the curse plaguing him with someone that wasn't his boyfriend. Seth had been there from the beginning and the only person he trusted besides him was Roman.

"The werewolf that made me...he's been coming after me."

"I know."

Cocking his head in bewilderment, Dean asked, "How did you know?"

"Where I come from," Bray began, looking him straight in the eye, "things most people wouldn't dream of are walkin' around us everyday. When you grow up around 'em…ya learn what to look for."

Dean gulped, suddenly questioning if Bray was even human. He subtly scented the air but sensed nothing abnormal.

Bray turned and headed presumably in the direction of his own room, tossing a few more words over his shoulder as he went, "You won't kill it in that form."

Then he was gone.

Dean only stood there for a moment before taking off back into the night, an idea forming in his head.

* * *

For another week and a half the beast remained just out of reach, but the body count continued to rise unchecked.

Seth had tried to discuss strategies with him on how to take out the werewolf, but Dean didn't want to talk much about his secret plan. He knew Seth wouldn't approve of it, but it was his best shot.

In the mean time Dean and his wolf were getting restless, and it showed in and outside the ring.

He wanted to put an end to the listless killings and finish off the curse afflicting him, and the wolf, having abstained from slaughter for over a month, was howling for blood, even if it was from that of his maker.

He could no longer just sit and twiddle his thumbs while that monster was on the prowl for a new victim, as if it was sending a message to him.

' _This ends tonight…even if it kills me…'_ he thought as he waited beside their rental while Seth paid for gas.

He was going to drive Seth to the next town – the beast sure to follow – book their room for the night, and wait until Seth was asleep before going out on the hunt.

" _ **I'm glad you're prepared to fight for your life, because he's here,"**_ said his wolf.

Just then Dean inhaled, taking in the scent of his pursuer for confirmation.

" _ **He's in the edges of the parking lot."**_

Dean stood up straighter and looked to his right, the stench of wet animal and death further permeating his nose. Yet again that single eye glowed at him challengingly amidst the darkness. Old One-Eye almost grinned at him as though saying, "Come and get me, pup."

Reaching into his leather jacket, he produced a small, unmarked bottle, hastily opening it and rubbing the purple ointment it contained onto both wrists. He was just about to spring out to attack when Seth made his presence known behind him.

"What's up?"

"Wait here," Dean ordered and began crossing the parking lot.

"Dean!" Seth shouted at his back, frantic footsteps following him through the parking to the foliage surrounding the little remote gas station. He should have known that his counterpart would give chase.

"Goddamnit," Dean hissed under his breath and kept marching, hoping the effects of the ointment would kick in soon.

He knew that the wolfsbane would take a lot longer to seep into his system through his skin than it did intravenously, but he had hoped the change would happen a lot faster.

The potency of the ointment was also a factor. So far only his skin of his fingers and wrists began to burn where he touched and applied the ointment. At this rate the beast would just pick him off and then kill Seth.

Trusting his wolf to watch his back, Dean stopped, whirling on his heels to face his lover.

"Get back in the to the car!" he all but roared.

The burning sensation was steadily spreading throughout his body, focused mainly in the roots of his hair, his fingernails, and his gums. Brown eyes stared back at him in absolute terror, no doubt taking in his rapid transformation.

"What did you do?" Seth screamed, trepidation filling his voice.

"What I had to. Now get inside before he kills you," he urged, then added threateningly, "Or I do…"

"I'm not leavin— oh shit!"

The wolf inside him tensed and Dean only had time to shove Seth away from him, throwing him backwards several yards.

The beast hit him at its full force, swiping him to the side. Dean's back smashed into the trunk of a tree, causing bark and wood to splinter into shrapnel. The tree groaned and bowed around his body.

Dean blacked out for half a second then woke up to see the one-eyed bastard leering at him, making sure he was watching as it stalked towards his boyfriend.

Realizing he was in danger, Seth leaped to his feet and took off back from whence they came. But even at a dead sprint, the werewolf was gaining on him.

A wave of protective rage and adrenaline thumped Dean's body. Inside his wolf thrashed, squishing his internal organs against his ribcage in its fight to get out. This time he didn't hesitate to let it rip free, allowing the instincts of the wolf to hijack his body.

His wolf eagerly burst forth in an explosion of shredded skin and twisting muscle, his predator eyes immediately targeting his maker.

One-eye had tripped up his mate and was preparing to devour him.

Dean pried himself from the wreckage of tree and propelled his massive body onto the scene, tackling One-Eye to the ground and snapping gaping jaws at his neck. Shifting beneath him, One-Eye evaded his attack and rolled back to his feet, lunging for Dean's throat. Quickly Dean sidestepped the deadly row of teeth and they broke apart.

Lips curling and fur bristling, he placed himself between One-Eye and his mate, displaying his teeth and his will to protect the brunet with his life if need be.

The cracking of twigs underfoot and the sound of heavy breathing signaled that Seth was getting back to his feet. At first Seth seemed hesitant to leave, then cautiously made his way back to the edge of the woods. Circling so that his opponent was always within his sights, Dean secured his mate's escape.

One-Eye reared back and roared furiously at having lost one of his quarry. Dean braced his claws into the ground, his tongue curling between his jaws with the growling threat he was emitting.

The warning went unheeded and they both collided in a mass of snarls and gleaming teeth. Fur went flying as they traded bites and blows with their massive paws all in an effort to get the other off their feet. Soon both of their sides were ripped to ribbons and bleeding profusely.

His opponent snagged him by the neck and viciously yanked, attempting to bring him down. One of Dean's front feet bucked underneath him, but he pushed back with his remaining three. He had to keep his feet on the ground and his belly protected at all costs.

One-Eye shifted his grip of his teeth and Dean let out a strangled yelp as those jaws closed around his throat. Wildly he thrashed with all his power, but no matter how much he whipped the other about – even risking to roll the other off of him – the death grip on his windpipe remained, tightening even.

Panting, Dean collapsed to his two front knees. His vision was starting to blacken. Before long he'd be completely incapacitated.

Suddenly, but not so surprisingly, Seth reentered the fray. With his jaws around Dean's throat, his maker had nothing to protect his remaining eye from the newly acquired pocketknife clutched tightly in the brunet's hand. Seth stabbed him so savagely that the glowing orb was severed from the head, impaled onto the tiny blade.

One-Eye – or now No-Eyes – released his neck with an enraged howl and Seth, his goal accomplished, swiftly jumped out of range of the teeth blindly snapping for him.

This was his chance.

Dean surged up from his kneeling position and sank his fangs deep into the soft flesh of the beast's vulnerable underbelly. No-Eyes jerked, letting out a high-pitched squeal into the still night air, but Dean didn't stop there. He toppled the other wolf over, ripping into the flesh and disemboweling him.

Even once the No-Eyes was stilled with death, Dean couldn't stop himself. He buried his long muzzle into the cavity he made, greedily consuming the sweet, bloody meat and sinew.

By now his wounds from battle had closed.

Sensing Seth approaching and fearful that his kill would be taken from him, Dean stamped one heavy paw over his trophy and growled warningly.

Seth halted in his tracks before giving him some room, sliding down to sit against a tree some distance away.

Satisfied that Seth had submitted to his will, Dean dropped his head to continue his meal. The succulent heart was the best. He tried to savor it, but after one taste he couldn't get enough until he'd swallowed it whole. With the heart gone, however, so too did his hunger vanish. His stomach suddenly full, he began licking his face clean of blood.

For the first time since he was cursed, Dean felt completely sated.

He shook himself then he regarded his mate intently for a moment. Seth appeared slightly guarded, but he couldn't smell any fear coming off of him. Wagging his tail as a sign he meant no harm, he advanced and nuzzled his face into the Seth's chest.

The brunette breathed out the smallest of chuckles, relief filling his tone. Two hands stroked his mane affectionately, then pulling on his massive head, Seth pressed their foreheads together.

"We did it," he whispered, patting furry his neck.

As though on cue, Dean's body grew heavy with exhaustion and he lay down, resting his head on Seth's lap to which Seth reciprocated by laying his hand atop his head. Gradually the heat of bloodlust and savagery seeped from him and the wolf retreated, slowly receding back into the depths of his skin.

Dean flipped onto his back and stared up into the brown eyes of his lover as those affectionate fingers carded through the unruly curls of his bangs.

"We did," he smiled, "together."

Returning his smile, Seth said, "Let's get you dressed, book a room, and get you into a shower. You smell like wet dog."

"I thought you liked that," he stuck out his tongue, to which Seth glowered, "Fine, only if you promise to join me."

"Deal."

They didn't bother traveling far enough for an upscale hotel, but that was fine with both of them, considering they had stayed in worse places when they were younger. All they required was each other.

Together they enjoyed the warm spray of the shower overhead as they scrubbed and checked each other's bodies over. The intimacy of the act didn't fail to lead them into a bout of desperate lovemaking against the steamy tiles.

Dean's scars remained, but gone were the fur that marked him as cursed. That and the fact that Seth came out of the scrap unscathed was all that mattered to him.

After hunkering down into bed, Seth facing him with his eyes blissfully closed as he held him in his arms and stroked his hand down his face, Dean broke the comfortable silence between them.

"Have I told you how much I love you?"

Those brown eyes that he could never get out of his mind opened lazily, holding his gaze with a sense of contentment.

"No," he joked, "why don't you tell me?"

Dean shifted closer, one dimple showing itself as he pressed a kiss to Seth's mouth.

"I love you so much that I don't know if I could think or breathe without you. I think my heart would forget how to fucking beat if you weren't in my life." His smile then faded as he thought about the draft, "What am I gonna do if the draft separates us?"

"Hey, look at me. We'll make it work," Seth vowed, "I ain't going anywhere, no matter how many miles apart we are. Are you with me?"

"Forever," he promised without a second thought.

Dean drifted into a dreamless sleep, but the next morning he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was talking to him, whispering right in his ear. The sensation bothered his sleep-addled brain, so he rubbed his eyes and shook his head until he ended up fully awake.

The voice silenced the moment his eyes opened.

First he turned to Seth, only to find that his lover was still sound asleep. He then cocked his head and listened to see if there were voices coming from neighboring rooms through the air ducts.

Nothing.

He let out a little hum, "Probably just imagined it."

Laying back and gathering Seth more comfortably against his body, Dean was decidedly all for taking another hour's snooze. As he once again departed the waking world, so too returned the voice, whispering reassuringly in his ear.

" _ **Don't worry, little pig. I'll be here for you too."**_

* * *

 _ **Rougarou is what Cajuns call their werewolves (not sure if Bray is or not, though his persona kind of acts as such, especially when he talks in tongues).  
** **Someone commented some chapters back about having Bray in the story and I liked the idea so I gave him a cameo.**_  
 _ **As for that ending, I sometimes like to end my stories with open endings, to leave the reader thinking. However with this particular fic I'm considering a sequel, but only if enough people are interested in one and I can get a proper direction with where I want it to go. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated~**_


	9. Note on sequel

I've started posting for my sequel to Bad Moon Rising, but since it will be grittier than this first one, I am only posting it on Archive of Our Own. There you will be able to read it uncensored. To find me on AO3 go there and input my username into the search. It's the same there as it is here. Now more about my sequel, Howl. This fic will sort of be a different animal to BMR in that the chapters will likely be shorter and, though I have a pretty good start on chapters, I'm likely to not keep a schedule with updates like I had before. This fic will be way longer and grittier. AND this fic, though still featuring a lot of Ambrollins, could probably be considered more Dean-centric. I hope that won't disappoint you guys. You can still leave feedback on AO3 without having an account, just simply click the "kudos" button.


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